#like 'heart rate spiked when they showed up' love them

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Juno - JJ Maybank

(one-shot, boyfriend!jj x reader, 4.1k words)

summary: You've built a beautiful little life with JJ, but his wild past and your trust issues keep you guarded. When a storm hits the island, you gain the perspective you need to take the next step.

content: fluff/smut, mentions of drinking and smoking. 18+ minors do not interact

When you met JJ, he was wild. Smoking, drinking, surfing - it was all he knew. You were new to the island and attending your first party at the Boneyard when he saw you standing by the keg, laughing with some friends, and his world turned upside down.

From that day on, he asked you out every time he saw you, relentlessly flirting with you. But you had heard about his reputation before your boxes were even unpacked, and you were far too cautious of a person to jump into something with someone like him quickly.

“You don’t give up, do you, Maybank?” You asked him about a year in, after he begged you to leave a party with him for the hundredth time.

“Usually I do, actually,” he leaned in so you could feel his warm breath against your lips, your heart rate spiking. “Just never wanted anything this bad.”

After that night, he had you. When you were a little older and out of school, and after months of begging from JJ, you moved in with him. You rented a little house on The Cut together, it wasn’t anything impressive, falling apart inside and outside, but with you waitressing and him working hourly for a landscaping service, it was all you could afford.

You had never been so anxious about anything as you were to move in with JJ. Your own parents were a disaster, your dad leaving before you could walk, and you grew up watching your mother’s revolving door of deadbeat men disappoint her over and over. Even though you knew JJ was infinitely better than even the best of those men, you had trust issues you couldn’t shake. You didn’t tell JJ about your concerns, not wanting him to take them personally, but he noticed the way you’d toss and turn in your shared bed, twisting your hair in your fingers with worry. 

He swore to himself he’d never let you down the way those other men did. He worked his way up at the landscaping business until he was a manager. Eventually, after giving up partying so you could both pick up a few extra shifts, you had made enough combined to put a deposit down and buy the house you shared. You both picked up second jobs at the Island Club, you’d bartend while he parked cars. When you got home each night, you’d pool your tips, counting them before adding them to the glass jar labeled “Dream House.” On the rare occasion you both had a day off, you’d sit in a lawn chair and keep him company while he fixed the roof, or lay on the bathroom floor while he installed the big claw-foot tub you’d wanted since you were a little girl. Bit by bit, he turned what you loving called The Shitshack into your Dream House.

Even though you were both exhausted at the end of every day, you always made time for each other. You’d split a $5 bottle of wine while playing Uno on the living room floor. Or you’d cook his favorite meals for him while he sat at the counter, your dutiful taste tester. After particularly rough shifts, you’d take a bath, JJ leaning back into you as you rubbed his shoulders and he massaged your calves and feet. 

Those nights would always lead to the two of you tangled up in your bed, or the shower, or on the floor. The beauty of owning your own home was that there was not one place - or position - you hadn’t tried. When you were first together, you had to talk JJ through pleasuring you, no girl ever being as honest with him as you were. He made you promise you’d never fake it with him, and you didn’t, patiently telling and showing him exactly what you wanted. He studied dutifully, storing away every single word you said. Now, you didn’t have to tell him anything, he knew exactly what to do. Hell, he knew your body better than you did.

“Just sit back and relax, baby girl, I got you,” he’d say, smiling coyly as you inevitably came undone for him in minutes.

Every night, whether you’d had sex or just talked about your days, he’d hold you until you fell asleep. And every night, without fail, he’d ask you to marry him. You’d just kiss him and tell him you loved him, falling asleep a few moments later. He didn’t take it personally, he understood why you were hesitant, and he’d wait until you were old and gray if that’s what you needed.

. ⋆ * .♡ *:･.   ݁  ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･.   ݁  ˖ ࣪ ..   ݁  ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･. ˖ ࣪ .

This was the first night in a long time JJ held you in bed and didn’t propose. A tropical storm was raging outside your little house, winds making the walls sway and rain pounding against the windows so hard you think they might break. You’re shaking in JJ’s arms, you’ve always hated storms and this is the worst one that’s hit the island in a long time. He pulls the covers over your head and wraps his strong arms around you tightly, trying to drown out the noise of the storm with soothing words.

“It’s gonna be okay, love,” he promises. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen. ‘S just a little rain, it’ll pass.”

Even though you were terrified, his confident words were enough to lull you into sleep sometime in the early morning. When you wake up, JJ isn’t in bed next to you. Sun is peeking through the crack in the curtains and the sound of birds chirping has replaced the thunder. You pull on your robe and slippers and shuffle out of the bedroom. 

You brew yourself some coffee, thankful the power is still on, and walk around the house to check for leaks or damage. There isn’t a single problem. You sigh in relief, beyond grateful for all the hard work JJ had put in to make the house so safe. 

Suddenly, you hear voices coming from outside the screen door. You look out to see commotion up and down the street, you set your coffee down and step outside, eyes wide as you take in the storm’s aftermath. You realize with dismay that you and JJ were the only house on the block that seemed untouched. Every other yard was riddled with debris, roofs were damaged, windows broken.

You spotted JJ across the street, helping a neighbor lift heavy branches off of his car. Feeling helpless, you hurried back into the house and pulled out everything you had in the pantry and fridge, making sandwiches and cutting up veggies, loading up the back of JJ’s landscaping van with the food. You parked the van at the end of the street and handed out the food and drinks to everyone, creating a makeshift block party, while JJ made his way house to house to see how he could help with the damage. 

You try to listen as your neighbors discuss the volume of the thunder and share stories of past storms, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting back to JJ. He looked so strong and capable, lifting heavy branches, boarding up broken windows, clearing debris. Every neighbor he helped was left laughing, their smiles wide as he eased their worry by just being him. 

Once it starts to get dark, you and JJ invite everyone over for a bonfire and cookout in your backyard. You’re sitting by the fire, watching with adoration as JJ plays tag football with all the kids. He purposely let them win, making them feel like they were ten feet tall. They all dogpile on him in excitement and you laugh along with all the other adults, shaking your head lovingly.

One of the young moms in the neighborhood you had come to know fairly well sits next to you, smiling knowingly as she watches you watch him.

“It’s really none of my business,” she says to you quietly, “but why aren’t you two married?”

You don’t look away from JJ as you respond, “y’know, I had a reason, but I can’t seem to remember what it was.”

After everyone has left, the yard is a mess of solo cups and the fire still burns. You look around and sigh, you’ve been cooking and helping people all day, and you didn’t realize how exhausted you were after getting so little sleep last night. You start to pick up, yawning as you bend down to pick up something off the ground. You feel JJ’s arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. You lean back into him and sway as he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Loved watching you today,” he says, his voice low. “Cooking for everyone, making sure everyone was okay. You’re such a good person, baby.”

You smile at his praise. “I learned it from you,” you say sweetly.

“Nah, babe, you got that the wrong way around,” he laughed. “You think the me you met five years ago would’ve been out here helping people clean up? I would’ve taken one look around and gotten the hell out of here.”

You smile at this, knowing he was right, picturing eighteen-year-old JJ grabbing his board and peeling out of the neighborhood at the first sight of trouble.

“You made me a better man,” he says, his tone serious now.

You lift one of his hands up to your lips, kissing his knuckles affectionately. He holds you for a long while as you look up at the stars, the night clear and calm after the storm.

“I drew you a bath,” he breaks the silence.

“Thank you, but I have to clean up,” you say, breaking from his hold and looking around the messy yard.

He just takes the trash from your hand and shakes his head, “I’ve got it, love. You don’t want your bath to get cold and waste the water.”

You smile at him, knowing his play. “You turned it on before telling me so I couldn’t say no.”

He doesn’t deny it, just kisses you on the cheek and starts picking up more empty paper plates and cups.

The bath water was perfect when you got in, your favorite candle already lit and some soft music playing. Your heart squeezed at JJ’s thoughtfulness as you relaxed into the warm water and let it wash away the day.

From your spot in the tub, you could see JJ in the yard, lit by the moon as he poured water over the fire to put it out. You felt suddenly emotional, overwhelmed by the deepest affection for him. You thought about his comment that you’d made him a better man. It was true that he’d grown so much in the last five years, but you couldn’t take all the credit. Maybe you were the reason he’d begun the journey, but he got to this destination all on his own. No one worked harder than him, or loved harder, or played harder. He provided for you, while still acknowledging how hard you worked, too. He encouraged all your dreams, listened to all of your anxious ramblings, laughed at all your stupid jokes. He never missed the chance to tell you how smart, beautiful, and special you were. He was selfless, always putting your needs before his. Even when you’d fight, he never walked away, never let the night end without trying to come to an understanding, only sleeping on the couch when he knew what you needed most was space. He’s proven to you over and over that he’s become the man you need.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the bedroom door open and shut. You hear JJ shuffle around in the bedroom for a bit before settling, surely not wanting to interrupt your relaxation. It hits you all at once, finally finding the answer he’s been wanting from you for years.

You drain the tub and stand at the sink,running your hands through your hair and dabbing on a little lipgloss. You rub vanilla scented lotion into your skin, JJ’s favorite. You walk over to the walk-in closet he built for you, digging through the drawers until you find a new pair of pink lace panties and its matching bra and garter set that he hasn’t seen you in yet.

When you slowly open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom, JJ is sitting on the bed in only his boxers, leaning against the headboard as he scrolls on his phone.

“Babe, you need to see these videos of the swells this morning,” he tells you, eyes still fixed to his phone as you start to walk slowly toward the bed. “We gotta get out there tomorrow.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” you purr.

He looks up the sound of your sultry voice, eyes immediately widening at the sight of you in your lingerie. He sits up, moving to the side of the bed and throwing his phone behind him, not even caring when it bounces off the mattress and onto the floor with a crash.

“Damnnnn,” he whistles at you playfully, making your cheeks heat up as you giggle.

“You like it?” You do a little twirl for him.

He looks you up and down hungrily, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He hooks his finger and motions for you, “get over here.”

A rush of excitement flows through you, straight to your core, and you saunter over to him. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand in front of him, between his legs. He looks up at you, his eyes burying into yours as he slowly reaches his hand up to rest on your hip.

“I love it,” he places a soft kiss onto your stomach and you feel goosebumps shoot up all over your skin. He kisses you a few more times before pulling back slightly to mumble, “it’s too bad I’m gonna have to rip it off.”

You moan softly at the feeling of his soft lips grazing over the sensitive skin right above the waistband of your panties. Before he can go any further, you grab his face in both hands and lift his gaze back up to yours.

“You first,” you whisper. 

JJ’s lips spread in a wicked smile, and you instinctively press the pads of your thumbs into his dimples. You lean down to place a quick kiss to his lips before saying, “lay down.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says eagerly as he scrambles back to lean against the headboard.

You slowly climb over him, your knees on either side of his lap, and ever so slightly drop your hips, your core ghosting over his clothed cock. At the slightest contact, he groans, unable to help himself but attach his lips to your neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin for a moment, before running his tongue over the same spot.

“Mmmm, you taste like vanilla,” you smile at the warmth in his words.

“Put on that lotion you like,” you explain as you grind down on him again, just a little harder this time.

“God,” he groans. “You’re so good to me.”

“Not as good as you are to me,” you smile down at him as you start rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. He throws his head back, reveling in the feeling of you, fingers digging into your hips to guide you to continue grinding. You place soft, wet kisses on his neck and chest, offering him a praise between each one. 

“You make me so happy…treat me so well…fuck me so good…make me come so hard…make me so fucking horny…”

His dick twitches in his boxers at the sound of your dirty talk. You continue moving your kisses down his abs, backing up your body to reach lower with each one. 

“Fuck, angel,” he chokes out, “you got me so hard.”

You look up at him with a smirk, you’re between his legs now, face inches from the waistband of his boxers, you arch your back so your ass sticks up behind you, giving him a perfect angle of your body. 

“Can I taste you, J?” You pout, as if he’d ever say no.

“Mhm, do whatever you want,” he pants, brushing your hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. Even when he has you in this position, he’s sweet, taking care of you.

“All I want is to make you happy,” you tell him, your intent was to sound sexy, but you can’t help the bit of emotion that creeps in, realizing how true your words are on so many levels.

He sits up when he notices the way your brow is drawn together in sincerity. He kisses your forehead and whispers, “all you gotta do to make me happy is exist.”

This man is perfect, you think, a huge grin on your face. You kiss him back once before laying your hand gently on his chest so he’ll lay back. You keep your hand over his heart as the other pulls down the waistband of his boxers. His dick springs free the second the fabric is out of the way. Even after all these years, your stomach still flips with excitement when you see his cock hard and needy for you. He places one hand over yours on his chest, while his other hand finds its way back into your hair.  

You wrap your fingers around his shaft gently and he sucks in a sharp breath, overly sensitive from how worked up you’ve got him. You drop a kiss to the tip, leaving a dab of lipgloss behind, quick to brush it off with your thumb, the motion making his hips buck up.

You know he’s trying to be patient, not to rush, afraid to pressure you. Your heart swells at his considerate restraint. You reward his patience by flattening your tongue and dragging it from his base to his tip, swirling it over the tip a few times before bringing his cockhead into your lips.

He looks down at you, eyes wide, watching the way your mouth accepts him. You moan softly at the taste of him and it reverberates through his body, making his head fall back against the headboard with a bang.

“Are you ok, love?” You ask nervously.

He laughs and shakes his head at his own clumsiness, “I’m fine baby, you just got me so damn worked up, your mouth feels so good.” 

You smile in satisfaction and return your mouth to his tip. You work him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, trying to relax your throat as best you can. Even though you’ve done this many times, you’ve never gotten used to the size of him. He knows it, too, looking at you with concern as you start to gag a bit, only two-thirds of the way down.

“Don’t hurt yourself, it’s okay if you stop there,” you pull off of him and he thinks you’re done, but you just shush him as you run your hand up and down his shaft a few times before diving back in. 

When he’s finally all the way in, his tip nudging the back of your throat, you moan to disguise your gag so he knows you’re okay. He seems to relent, tugging slightly at the roots of your hair and gripping your hand harder, you hollow your cheeks and start to bob up and down.

“Shhhit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That’s perfect, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.”

You keep up the pace for a couple minutes, JJ a whining mess beneath you. You adored the sound of him letting go and feeling good. He worked so hard, and always tried to prove how strong he was, nothing felt better than making him finally relax. 

When you moaned around him again, he bucked his hips up subconsciously.

“Wait,” he sat up, “wait wait wait.”

You pulled off of him, startled, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s so good, too good,” he rushed to assure you. “Not gonna last much longer.”

You smiled pridefully, “where do you want to finish, baby?”

“Inside, need to be inside you, please,” he used the hand he was holding to pull you up to him, making you laugh as you fall onto his chest.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you giggled, placing a swift kiss on his lips.

“Yeah?” He taunts as he flips you onto your back gently, slipping his finger under the strap of your bra. “You finally gonna let me rip these off of you?”

You pull your lip between your teeth and nod, watching JJ’s hands move swiftly to rid you of the lacy fabric. Once he had your bra and panties off, he kissed you again, and you let out a little sigh into his mouth. He studied your face as his hand dipped between your legs, two fingers gliding through your wetness. You whimpered and twitched beneath him as he grazed your clit.

“All this for me?” He asked, well aware of the answer.

“Yes,” you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, the pressure of his fingers against you so good your legs were starting to shake. “I’m yours, J. Forever.”

His nostrils flared slightly at the sound of the words, never needing to be inside you quite as much as he did in that moment. He used your wetness on his hand to get his dick ready, sliding in slowly as your back arched while you gasped at the sensation.

“Forever, huh?” He asks as he sinks into you.

You nod desperately, pulling a wicked grin from him as he finally bottoms out. He starts to rock in and out of you, slowly at first, picking up the pace when you wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him.

“I love you so much,” he says so earnestly your heart aches, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, you have no idea,” you tell him.

When he shifts his hips slightly so his pelvis rubs over your clit, you clench around him, crying his name in pleasure.

“I think I have some idea,” he teases.

You squeeze him again, harder, making the smile fall from his lips as he groans, jaw clenched.

As JJ picks up his pace, brushing over your clit with each deep thrust, both of you moan, your breaths becoming frenzied and your sweat mixing together everywhere your skin touches.

His words are a tangled mess of I love yous and fucks, yours a chant of oh my gods and his name. You squeeze him again, your orgasm approaching. He watches your face, eyes shut tight and lips parted, your hair a halo around you as he presses you into the pillows with each stroke. It’s the most beautiful sight, he thinks, the most precious person in the world, completely lost in the joy he’s giving her.

He can’t help himself when he whispers, “marry me.”

Your eyes shoot open, meeting his with surprise, and he wishes he hadn’t said it, that he had waited until later like he did every other night, when you were falling asleep and too tired to scold him for his impulsiveness. 

But then, you reach your hand up to caress his face, running your thumb over his bottom lip, looking at him with so much love and affection.

“Yes,” you say.

He stops moving into you and leans away from your face a bit, positive that he misheard you. 

“Wh-what?” He sounds concerned, like maybe he was dreaming and none of this was really happening.

“I wanna marry you, JJ,” you repeat, your voice sure and unwavering. You caress his cheek with your thumb, waiting for his mind to catch up with his ears. 

When it finally does, he places a kiss on your palm and sinks into you again, moving slowly at first in his dazed state, before you lift your hips, reminding him how you like it. He pounds into you, the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breaths filling the room as you near your high.

“You gonna be my wife?” JJ asks, watching your face contort with pure bliss. 

“Yes!” You cry, the wave of your orgasm crashing into you hard, your clenching walls pulling JJ’s from him as he fills you. 

That night, while JJ held you like he always did, your back to his chest, he’s uncharacteristically quiet. You turn in his arms so you can look at him, trying to read his face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I’m trying to figure out how long I have to wait before I can start asking if we can have a baby,” he admits, his tongue poking into his cheek.

You laugh loudly, swatting his shoulder.

“You really don’t give up, do you Maybank?” 

“On you? Never.”

a/n: in which nat takes a break from all the rafe angst to write some jj fluff. I saw some of the jj girlies say he needs more fics, so i'd thought I'd try writing for him and I had soooo much fun!! also I fear short 'n sweet has a death grip on my one-shots, oh well.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

sleeping beauty | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

spencer checked the time and date, one thirty pm on june tenth. he took a deep exhale then pulled open his top desk drawer, staring at him were two tickets for a screening of the french adaptation for sleeping beauty. he remembered you mentioning how she was your first princess movie to own on vhs, saying how the ending dance sequence was truly enchanting.

usually spencer goes to these film festivals by himself, but when this was one of the movies announced for the weekend, he decided now was the time. spencer reid was gonna toughen up and ask you on a date.

“hey reid,” he startled at the feminine voice beside his desk. he shut the drawer closed and turned to see elle watching him with raised brows, “everything okay?” crossing her arms and cocking a hip against his desk.

“ye- yeah. is there- was there something you needed?” hoping she doesn’t mention anything about his weird behavior, but most people would argue he’s always weird.

elle pursed her lips, “uh no. just wanted to know what’s got you sweating in this cooled office.” profiling nonchalantly. spencer bit into his bottom lip, his own brows raising as he squinted his eyes, “i- i don’t know-“

his sentence stopped short when he heard your gentle giggles and then his eyes followed your figure as you walked beside penelope. your eyes caught his and you waved in greeted, smiling widely as you continued on your walk.

“so something involving our second best liaison.” elle hummed, spencer flinched again. he forget she was still there, “n- no…” his stuttering more present whenever you were of the subject.

elle perked up and leaned forward, her eyes were alight, “are you finally asking her out?” almost squealing at the idea.

“what do you mean, finally?” spencer questioned. he didn’t tell anyone about his infatuation with you. elle rolled her smokey eyes, “oh please. you may have an iq of one eighty seven, but whenever she’s in the vicinity or mentioned it’s slashed to sixty.”

spencer felt his cheeks warm, he hunched into himself, “that’s not true.” mumbling into his chest. “you also stopped talking just to watch her walk down the hallway,” elle scuffed.

spencer licked his lips and figured there was no point in lying, plus elle might give him some advice for the date. “i’m- i’m planning to take her to a movie festival. they’re playing a french version of sleeping beauty.”

elle cooed, “gonna whisper the translation in her ear? that’s a pretty morgan move to do.”

that worried spencer, “that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, right? i don’t want her thinking-“ elle held out her hands to stop his anxious rambles.

“just ask her. when presenting the tickets, ask if it’s okay to translate for her. if she says no, there might be something the theater has to fix that problem. but i’m sure she won’t mind.”

“who won’t mind what?”

spencer’s heart rate spiked when your voice was in earshot, then when elle moved to the side to show you joining the both of them he knew his ears started to flush red. he opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to steer the conversation.

“oh, how jj won’t mind if spencer steals you for a chat. i’ll go double check.” and with that fib elle sauntered away, leaving you confused.

“you wanted to talk with me?” hands held behind your back as you tilted your head. it prompted spencer to stand up, your head needing to lean back a bit to make eye contact.

he rubbed his palms along his pants, “uh yeah. i was- there’s this film festival that i visit regularly, many foreign originals or adaptations. and there’s gonna be a screening for a french sleeping beauty and i- i was wondering if you’d… would you like to- to go on a- on a date? with me?” he stuffed his hands into his pockets at the end when he noticed all his fidgeting.

your lips parted slightly and your head straightened, “i’d- i’d love too,” eyes twinkling like a star. “but i don’t know french.” an embarrassed smile at the information.

spencer moved a hand to scratch at his ear, “i- i could translate it for you. but i’d have to speak quietly and into your ear, is that- are you okay with that? we- we could also ask the employees for-“

you stopped him when you stepped closer and touched his forearm, a sweet smile shining upon him. “you can translate for me. i like listening to your voice.” your words a sweet syrup dripping over his heart.

spencer nodded dumbly, “o- okay. it’s- it’s friday at- at seven. so we can just- just leave after work.”

you nodded, “it’s a date.”

-

pt2

[1d1195]

Made to Be - Extra IV

Read Made to Be here | ~1.8k words

From me: I was just thinking about them (probs because I'm always thinking about school. This take place sometime between January and the second extra (pre-baby stuff). This is just a really quick little thing until I can write something of merit. I believe I'm almost caught up at work. I think I might be able to write something more substantial this week 💕 Thank you for being patient and kind.

Warnings: none, fluffy cute stuff.

Summary: Harry's not the only one who thinks she was made to be a teacher.

May

“I think we should outlaw field trips,” she mumbled sitting beside Harry in the front seat of the bus.

He chuckled. “It will be fun, kitten,” he assured her.

“Fun for you maybe. You got the good group of kids to chaperone.”

“I’ll give y’group a lecture before we split up, angel,” he promised. Harry snagged her hand from her lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. They tried not to be overly affectionate in front of the students because they didn’t want it to be weird...not that it was weird. But it was definitely something in their eyes. “Y’know they only gave y’a tough group because y’can handle it and they love you.”

She sighed. “I know, I know.”

They were dressed comfortably for the history museum trip. Business casual that made Harry think she was modeling for teachers in textbooks. She was so pretty it made his heart skip a beat.

She had been telling Harry how excited she was to go on the trip up until she got the names of the group she was chaperoning. She was especially excited because schools always got great discounts for museums that she generally hated to pay for. But not even the group rate was enough to make her enthusiasm spike. She fiddled nervously with her engagement ring dangling on her necklace. Harry truly outdid himself and wearing the ring on her finger in the city made her nervous so she opted for the necklace so she could tuck it away safely. (But she assured Harry the thought of taking it off made her feel naked.) Until it was tucked away, Harry smiled, self-satisfied as she twisted it on the silver chain. That pretty diamond glittering in the sun coming through the window of the bus made him so happy. The little symbol that they’d be together forever. She was made for him. He was certain.

He almost forgot he was supposed to be comforting her. It was loud behind them. Not excessive, but when forty something students chattered in an enclosed area, it always got a bit loud and also didn’t help his train of thought. “They’ll pull it together for you,” he draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. The kids would have to deal.

“Aw!” Someone droned. Her cheeks heated briefly but Harry turned in his seat and glared so that the sound was cut off quickly.

“Jus’ show them all y’favorite things,” he shrugged.

“My nightmare is losing a student on a trip,” she sighed. “This is so stressful.”

“They’re not little ones, m’love,” he reminded her. “They can wander a bit and they’ll be okay. S’not like they don’t all go to the mall on their own and whatnot. Plus, I’d never let y’take the fall for losing one of them. We’d find them. M’sure a lot of parents wouldn’t either. But s’not going t’happen.”

She nodded. Then she sighed heavily and squeezed his hand back. “You’re right.”

“Mm, music t’my ears,” he grinned.

“Don’t push it.”

*

But Harry was right. Her group of students who were usually a rough and tumble kind of bunch really got into the trip. At first they were quiet, almost shy. But she acted as if she didn’t notice and told them all about the exhibits they encountered and explained as much as she could. She did her best to connect the displays to their own lives so they would care more.

As such, they walked right along with her and forgot their shyness. They asked intelligent follow up questions after she explained what they were looking at. They followed all her directions and even asked her for more information about the information she told them as they walked through the rooms. She was going to boost their grades when they got back to school with bonus points for being so good and learning at the same time.

The relief was exhilarating.

About part way through the morning, her group of eight needed a bathroom break. She waited outside the bathrooms and checked her phone for any kind of emergency. Harry texted to check in on her, so she answered to let him know how good her group was and how happy she was to be on the trip again.

“School trip?”

She looked up instinctively, the lanyard around her neck was the only thing that marked her as an adult in comparison to her students. Her slightly shorter frame didn’t compare to the boys she taught who often towered over her. She thought she usually looked the part of being a teacher. She felt it was written on her face (or maybe it was the headband with the Treaty of Versailles printed on the fabric and her pencil earrings that gave it away). The man before wasn’t one of her coworkers but he had a lanyard around his neck from a school she hadn’t heard of before.

She nodded. “Oh yeah, drove an hour in,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Same here. About an hour and a half. You’re a history teacher as well?” He asked.

Her students were still in the restroom, so she cleared her throat again and nodded. “Yes, World History.”

“Same here, where are you in the curriculum right now?”

“We just finished up the Industrial Revolution. About to start Imperialism.”

“Fun stuff! You know, one of my students heard you talking about the Enigma exhibit. Said I left out a ton of information that you seemed to know a lot more about.”

She chuckled. “I see, sorry about that,” she smiled politely. “I get a little too into Bletchley Park.”

“Don’t we all.”

“Miss,” one of her students said suddenly appearing from the bathroom with two others. She glanced toward the men’s bathroom but didn’t see any of them just yet. “Can we pop into the giftshop?”

She glanced at her watch. “I think we have time for that, scope it out before everyone else at the end of the day. We have lunch in about an hour.”

“Are you all eating here, in the food court?”

“I think we’re eating outside,” she said. “Nice day and all... I think the boys are coming out now,” she smiled at her student. “Nice meeting you. Enjoy the museum,” she ushered her students toward the men’s room and sighed.

“Was he hitting on you, Miss?” She whispered.

“Shh.”

“Okay, queen,” she giggled. “Are you going to tell Mr. Styles?”

“He wasn’t hitting on me.”

“Miss,” she laughed. “He was so hitting on you.”

“I didn’t—”

“Who was hitting on her?” One of the boys asked.

“No one—”

“That guy.”

“Oooh, he’s cute. Wait until Mr. Styles finds out he has competition.”

“Miss, I think we have to intimidate him,” another one of the boys explained knowingly. “It’s what Mr. Styles would want.”

“Oh, my word,” she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we go to the giftshop?”

*

“Everyone please look in the seat next to you and check if the person you travelled with on the way here is still here! We’re doing a final headcount as soon as we’re all seated.”

“Mr. Styles!” One of her group members sang. She glared at him briefly with her best teacher stare before she sat facing forward in her seat. Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes? Didn’t y’torture m’fiancée enough today?”

“I would never torture her! But your fiancée got hit on by a guy by the bathroom!” He shouted.

The resounding oohs from the entire bus made her blush. She looked straight forward at the seatback in front of her. “Really?” He smiled and glanced down at the pretty girl beside him.

She shook her head. “He was not flirting.”

“Course he was, Miss! You’re a total catch!” The girl in her group called back.

“She’s right, y’know,” he winked at her knowingly, his voice was low. Maybe only one or two students heard Harry say it and they were kind enough to giggle and not make a scene of it or embarrass her further. “Alright, alright, head count!”

She stayed put while Harry walked up and down the aisle. When he returned to the front, he told the bus driver that everyone was accounted for and they could go on their way.

“Hiding your affair from me?” He winked.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and grabbed her hand from her lap and brought her fingers to his lips briefly. “S’no surprise, really.”

“It’s probably because my ring was inside my shirt.”

“Lucky ring,” he hummed.

“Harry,” she hissed.

“The man has good taste, kitten,” he shrugged. “M’not surprised at all.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I just didn’t want to make you jealous. I don’t want you to think you have anything to be jealous of, you know?”

“I know, I know,” his voice was so kind and soft. The way he sounded when they were falling asleep. It was quiet and warm. If they weren’t in front of forty something students, he probably would have held her cheek and kissed her the way he did every night. Would have traced her features and told her how much he loved her. “You’re jus’ so pretty, so nice, so lovely that anyone with half a brain cell can see it from across the room,” he assured her. Her relief was massive. The idea of hurting Harry’s feelings or betraying his trust was one of her worst fears. She pulled the necklace from its spot and twisted it again and Harry’s smile grew. “God,” he shook his head. Then he squeezed her hand three quick times. She squeezed it back four times in succession. Both knew what it meant. A not quite secret that they loved each other.

She was always grateful for Harry coming into her life. The day she left her old school and got her new job was so scary and sad. In hindsight, she would have told herself in her first year of teaching that a new school was in her future, and she was going to meet a man that was everything she wanted and more.

Someone who was made for her.

“What?” He smirked. The sun was setting and bathing the bus in a soft golden light that only highlighted how handsome Harry was.

“Just thinking about how jealous I would be if a girl flirted with you on a field trip. You have way more kindness than I do.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten,” he mumbled and brought his mouth to her ear. “M’going t’show you how crazy the thought of another guy chatting y’up makes me later. Remind you that y’don’t need anyone else. Ever,” he promised and pressed a chaste kiss that did not match the intensity of his words.

Her cheeks warmed once more but she smiled. Shaking her head she squeezed his hand three more times.

--

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[justwinginglife]

Love your fics so much!!! And your writings!! Can you do one where dense reader thinks she’s getting sick and checks herself into a hospital as she mistakes falling in love symptoms an illness and accidentally confesses to soshiro she’s in love with him “you doofus it sounds like your in love with me” 😍

Ahh thanks so much! I appreciate your support. Also this is the cutest prompt EVER. I love it. Thanks for sending!

A Case Of The Butterflies

You'd been sick many times before, but never in your life had you ever had such a ridiculous, confusing, selective fever. Your heart rate would spike, your temperature would increase, your sweat would drip, your lungs would ache, but only at certain times. Only in certain moments around a certain person. You started to wonder if maybe Soshiro Hoshina was sick as well.

It seemed that every time he was around you, you had a flare-up and you just knew you had to be catching whatever he had.

At first, you tried avoiding him, which relieved your original symptoms but caused a new one to surface- your chest would start hurting if he wasn't nearby. You figured it was heartburn. A severe case. You wondered if it was some sort of lotion or cologne that he was wearing that soothed the throbbing in your chest, so you kept asking him what it was that he wore. He was thoroughly amused and gladly procured a list for you, saying he was excited for you to smell like him. After you tried every single product and had no results to show for it, you decided to just stay by his side. You weren't sure what about him soothed the pain inside you, but it worked so you clung to him like you were his shadow.

When you started wearing a mask around him -it was your poor attempt at resisting whatever sickness he had passed onto you- it further entertained him to no end. He thought you looked cute with it on. Though he did miss your pretty face, as he frequently told you. In the end, you gave up on the mask, your symptoms just as intense with them as they were without them. Whatever condition the two of you shared, it was strong, and it penetrated any barriers.

You wondered if you should just give in to your ailment. If it was hopeless. If you should just let the sickness seep into your bones, take hold of your muscles, infect your bloodstream, fill every inch of your lungs. And then, you wondered if it was possible for you to build up a resistance to this disease.

Thus began a long series of ridiculous experiments aimed at building a better understanding of your condition.

Hoshina got quite the laugh out of watching you slowly inch towards him, your eyes trained on your smart watch, monitoring just how high your heart rate jumped and at what length from him it did so. It turned out your heart rate was always abnormally high when he was in the same room as you, but any form of contact with him was what sent it into a frenzy. Even if that contact was just his breath on your skin from a few inches away, or his gaze penetrating yours. He didn't have to be literally touching you, his presence did enough damage.

This puzzled you further and so your experiments continued.

Next, you paced around him with a thermometer in your mouth to deduce how his proximity affected your temperature. Just like with your heart rate, the closer you got to him, the more feverish you were. You hurriedly jotted your results down in your notebook, which resulted in a smirk from him, but he allowed you to continue anyway. He was very easygoing and didn't mind the random trials you put him through, but more than that, he just loved an excuse to spend time with you. So he encouraged your experiments, told you that you couldn't rest until you got to the bottom of this. He had no idea what you were trying to get to the bottom of, but he supported it fully.

Then one day, completely by accident, you stumbled upon the interesting discovery that you slept better when he was nearby and even your dreams were significantly more pleasant when you had interacted with him right before you dozed off. You had been studying beside him in the library, searching for more evidence to backup your research, when your exhaustion took hold of you rather suddenly. He smiled at you and gently rubbed your arm, telling you to take a nap and he'd wake you up when the library closed. You had the most wonderful dreams of your entire life after that.

How could one man be so disease-inducing and yet his very presence soothed you to no end?

You wondered what the prognosis was for such a severe condition. Would you be stuck with this feeling for the rest of your life? Or would you be dead tomorrow, your heart overloaded from the sheer intensity of it all.

It was that train of thought that led you through the hospital doors, anxious to get yourself checked in posthaste. You rattled off your symptoms, leaving out one very important detail (that it was only around Hoshina that you experienced these things). The amount of symptoms you were experiencing, the severity of them, and the frequency in which you were experiencing them concerned the hospital staff and you were rushed in with some urgency.

The nurses performed all sorts of extensive testing on you and you patiently waited for the results.

Suddenly you got a text on your phone.

It was Hoshina. Again. Ever since he got your number, he'd been abusing the privilege, eagerly messaging you any chance he got. At this point, if he didn't spam you, you were concerned.

What you up to and can I join?

Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest and you wondered if maybe he didn't need to be near you after all to transfer his sickness.

Just in the hospital. You sent the text as if it was no big deal.

I'm sorry, WHAT?

Hospital. Can't you read?

No, I got that. Why? What's going on? Never mind, I'm coming to find you.

You texted him back repeatedly, telling him you were fine, just a little under the weather, and he didn't need to worry. He didn't care. Within a few minutes, he came crashing through the door to your room.

He collapsed on the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He must've run here.

You bent down to get a good look at him and, feeling your presence, he gazed up at you, a shaky smile spreading across his face as sweat dripped from his forehead. He definitely ran here. What an idiot. What a sweet, sweet idiot.

"Are..." He panted, "Are you o-okay?"

You laughed. "Are you okay? You look like you just ran a marathon."

He chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. "And so what if I did? You said you were in the hospital- I was worried."

You shrugged. "I think I've just got some weird cold or something."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Some cold. And that's why you're in the hospital? Are you dying??"

You flushed, suddenly self-conscious. You didn't know if you should tell him. But he was one of your closest friends. And you knew he'd be as supportive as he could be about your condition; he did just run the whole way here. It's not like he'd laugh at you.

So you told him everything.

He did laugh. He laughed so hard he rolled around on the floor, holding his sides.

You rolled your eyes at him. "What's so funny?"

"Darling, I love you."

You choked. "S-sorry, w-what?"

“The heart palpitations. Feeling sick to your stomach but also feeling even worse when we’re not near each other. Difficulty breathing. Feeling warm, too warm, like you’ve swallowed the sun. I feel all that too. Because I’m in love with you. And, I think, you’re in love with me too- you doofus.”

You blinked. Then, as his words sank in, your face turned a bright shade of red and you buried yourself underneath the sheets.

He tugged at the blanket. “Oh come now, you can’t hide from me. Let me love you, let me love all your troubles away.”

You clenched the fabric tight in your trembling hands. “Could you maybe love me a little quieter? I’m busy being embarrassed.”

He laughed and yanked the blanket down all the way so he could fully take in the sight of your flushed cheeks. “And why would I ever do that? I plan to love you as loud as I possibly can, especially now that I know you love me back. So what do you say, be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip but you couldn’t hold back your smile. “Only if you get me out of here before I have to confess my shame and humiliation to the doctor.”

He grinned. “It would be my honor to break you out, my darling girlfriend.” He kissed your hand, kissed up your arm, up your neck, and then finally pressed a kiss to your lips.

Then he scooped you up in his arms and took off with you.

Years later, even after countless romantic dates and wonderful adventures together, Hoshina still counts your first date as him smuggling you out of the hospital, stealing a couple things of jello on the way out, and splitting them with you in the getaway car.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

For the Crewel event, how about Ortho taking his Cerberus robot puppies to NRC and showing them to Crewel?

If he doesn't scare you, no evil thing will.

“You keep dogs as companion animals, Crewel-sensei? My family has dogs too!”

Upon learning that, Crewel’s interest had been piqued. The spike in heart rate, the dilation of his pupils—there was no mistaking it. Every one of Ortho’s vital sign readings had indicated the same excited response.

And that was why, on exactly 7 on the dot Monday morning, he barreled into Crewel’s classroom with a cheery shout.

Ortho’s face was framed in a helmet with pointed ears, only his mouth and its jagged teeth visible. He had traded his College Gear for a more spindly form with pointed shoulders and nails. The boy was every bit as sleek as a bloodhound on the hunt.

Ortho was followed by two cybernetic canines, each wearing a spoked collar. The dogs were as black as night, their numerous markings lighting up in neon blue as they prowled, sniffing out their surroundings. They curiously circled Crewel’s desk, noses to the ground.

He arched a brow, but did not protest. “These are…”

"Meet CB-RS01 and CB-RS02!" Ortho chirped, lowering his altitude to meet Crewel in the eyes. “I guess they’d be something like our family’s ‘guard dogs’!”

“Shroud, you brought your pets on campus?”

“I thought you’d be interested in meeting them.”

His teacher’s expression darkened. “… Where.”

Ortho inclined his head in confusion. “Where…?”

“Where do they like to be pet?” Crewel asked with grave seriousness.

“Oh, I’ve never thought of that. They have sensors all over their bodies for surveillance, tracking, combat, and data collection. Among the multitude of functions CB-RS01 and 02 can perform, I don’t think cuddling is one.”

“Nonsense!” Crewel haughtily insisted. “All animals are deserving of affection.”

“Hmm…” Ortho hesitated. “Well, it should be find to touch them on the head. They won’t be aggressive if you show them you mean no harm.”

“So it shall be.” Crewel extended a hand to the robotic dogs, coaxing them with curled fingers. “Come here.”

CB-RS01 and 02 stood at attention at the unfamiliar call, both cautiously surveying the strange man before them. 02 emitted a hum that sounded like a growl. 01 took the initiative to step forward and sniffed Crewel’s open palm.

“Do you smell the treats on me? I fed them to my own boys back home before coming to work today. I would offer you treats if I had them—and if you take them.” He slowly placed his hand on 01’s head. Both dogs tensed. “For now, this is all I can grant you.”

Crewel gave 01 a good stroke. It was warm metal, slick and paved with complex ridges. 01 planted its bottom on the floor, letting out a low sound akin to a satisfied grunt. Its tail happily bounced up and down.

02 padded up. It watched Crewel for a few moments more until it gently butted against his arm, almost as if demanding a pat too. He laughed, using his other hand.

Pretty soon, both dogs were cozied up to him.

“There, there,” Crewel crooned, sweet and smooth as honey. “You’re good boys, aren’t you? Yes you are. Very good boys indeed!”

“Wah, Crewel-sensei!” Ortho gasped. “You instantly tamed them…! You’re a natural.”

“Nothing to it. You just have to open your heart to them and the animals will respond to that.”

“I see, so that’s how it works…? Either way, this is fascinating data. I’ll have to log it and report on this new behavior.“

A blue holographic screen blipped into existence. Ortho set to punching in numbers and symbols, all business. When he glanced up from the edge of his screen, the shutters on his eyes—eyelids, humans would call them—fluttered, snapping several shots of Crewel doting on the dogs.

The images were processed and immediately stored in his memory banks, labelled with the correct tags. Divus Crewel, CB-RS01 and 02, and their unadulterated joy. A love that pure…

Ortho’s core shuddered and sighed.

… is capable of changing the world.

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Boss

Mob!Nico Hischier x Reader

Previous

Warnings: blood, violence, murder, Nico and reader fight a lot

A/n: Ok this one has a lot going on but I couldn't just skip over reader and Nico recovering from her being taken. The next chapter will be much sweeter, I swear!

Enjoy!

_____________________________________________________________

For the whole trip, every time Nico closed his eyes he could see it perfectly. The mountains in the back, snow capped and beautiful. You love the mountains in the winter, love the snow.

He’d make sure you’re wearing that cute red and white snowsuit you love, the one he’d gotten you for snowmobiling last year. He was gonna take you to get your nails done, help you pick out a cute pearly white color and then sit with you and let them paint a clear coat on his own finger nails and do the whole hand massage and oil thing. And he was gonna act like he hated it, like he was doing you a favor when I reality he loved it. All because it made you smile.

Then he was gonna take up the gondola, let you take selfies with him kissing your cheeks or squishing your cheeks together. Dinner at the resort, fancy and expensive and beautiful, all things you deserve.

When the sun started to set, alpenglow hitting the peaks of the mountain you’d have the perfect view from the private table. And he get down on his knee, just like you asked, and pull out the ring he’d had made specifically for you by the watchmaker he loves, and tell you everything. Tell you how much he loves you, how you steady him and make everything seem so easy, how you quiet his mind and make his heart race, how you took a stupid, rich teenage boy and turned him into a man he is proud to be.

And he’d ask you to marry him. And you’d say yes, obviously. He’d slide the ring on and kiss you, hold your pretty face between his palms until the sun set and he could take you home, kiss you even more. Spread you out on the bed and fuck you until the sun rose again in the morning.

It was going to be perfect.

He thinks of that as he stares at your left hand, ring finger bare and cold in his palm. This time tomorrow and you would’ve had your ring, the third item to solidify not only your place in his life, but in the Devs.

That’s the order him and the others agreed on for partners year ago. The pendant of the Devil, to show that you’re protected by them. The ring engraved with your name and little flames, always worn on the right pinky by members but anywhere on the body for partners. Yours sits around the chain on your neck, clinks against the pendant. It shows that you’re one of them, a member of the family.

And finally the wedding ring, the thing that gives you his last name and his power. It shows his love for you. The most important one of all.

The sudden blimp of the heart monitor scares him, has him jolting to his feet and squeezing your hand as he looks to the screen. Your heart rates keeps spiking, beeping loudly in the room and he manages to catch your right hand as you reach up for your neck.

“You’re ok, you’re ok,” he quickly soothes, preventing you from touching the brace the doctors strapped around your neck.

Your eyes are wide and terrified when they meet his, gaze darting between his eyes in confusion and panic. Your lips part to speak but he shushes you before you do.

“No baby don’t talk, it’s ok.” He squeezes your hands, brings them back down to the hospital bed. “You’re just a little swollen, ok? The brace is to help bring it down.”

He waits for you to calm down, the monitor slowing back to normal before letting go. You inhale shakily through your nose, breath quivering when you exhale.

Smoothing your hair down, he rests his free hand against the side of your head and looks you over. Despite the bandage on your forehead and the puffiness of your eyes, you look so beautiful. If he ignores the brace and the cotton, you don’t even look hurt.

His heart squeezes.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” he whispers, feeling physically itchy with guilt. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, I should’ve listened to you and taken you right home.”

Tears build up in your waterline, taunting him and he starts shaking his head. He really does not want to see you cry.

“Sorry,” you whisper instead, voice raw and hoarse. He’s not sure if you’re even supposed to be talking, the doctors didn’t tell him. “I know better, should’ve stayed with you.”

Chest aching, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, being mindful of any injuries he may bump. “We’ll talk about it when you’re better, yeah? You can tell me what happened.”

He pulls back to see you stiffly nod, as best you can around the brace. Wiping away the stray tear on your cheek, he huffs out a breath and tries to relax.

It’s impossible.

“I’m gonna get a nurse,” he steps back, turning to find the call button. Your hand latches around his like a vice, body jolting up in the bed and he freezes, finger hovering over the phone symbol.

You look a little confused by your own actions, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, but your eyes tell him everything. They always have.

You’re scared.

A part of him melts knowing that in moments of fear you want him, that you see him as safety and protection. It’s not anything new, but Nico likes the reminder. It means he’s doing something right.

The rest of him just feels angry. He’s so fucking angry that he let this happen, that he let his stubbornness and rejection get you hurt.

“M’right here,” he swears, “was just gonna use the call button.”

Sheepishly, you nod and lay back against the pillows, watchful gaze following him as he presses on the button.

The nurse enters your private room, smiling when she sees that you’re up and coherent. Nico has to let go of your hand so she can check your vitals again but he stays planted right next to your head, watching over you.

She takes your blood pressure, asking you about how you’re feeling and letting you know that you can try to speak normally. There’s no drastic damage to your vocal cords, and use will help make sure you get your voice back.

Nico listens in but takes a second to text Timo and his family that you’re awake and talking. He’s not sure where Luca has taken Marcelo and Lena, but he assumes his brother will find time to stop by and let him know.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

He puts his phone away, immediately tuning back into the conversation. The nurse is shining a light in your eyes, your dark pupil following it but he sees the confusion that clouds them all the same.

“I was at a party,” you reply, clearing your throat and wincing. You take a second to think, blinking when the nurse turns the light off. “I was at a party and-and I was mad at Nico and I didn’t know what anyone was saying…”

Nico thinks of Anna and her friends, confused because he knows she would translate for you and make sure to speak you to in English. Part of the reason he was ok with separating from you was because he trusts her to be watchful.

“I just needed a second of quiet so I went outside…” you continue “and then I remember a lot of blood and feeling really sick. And Nico was there.”

It’s terrible but he relaxes a bit after hearing that. Obviously it’s not great that you don’t remember; that means your head injury was pretty bad, but on the other hand he doesn’t want you remembering that.

It’s bad enough you remember him shooting Lena.

“Ok, good.” The nurse compliments. “That’s a great start. It’s typical that as you recover more memories will come back to you. There’s not really a time table for when but just keep that in mind.”

She goes over a few more things with you, making sure Nico is listening since you might have trouble remembering. He waits for her to leave before pulling out his phone, writing down the reminders in his notes apps even though he knows he won't forget.

He tucks it back in his pocket, looks up to see you watching him with sad eyes. "You look miserable," you say, reaching out towards him. Stepping closer, he lets you take a hold of his arm and pull him into sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Didn't think you'd remember me shooting Lena," he explains "I don't like when you see those things."

Your hand runs up his bicep and around his shoulder, finding the ends of his hair on the nape of his neck. "I'm glad," you say, a tiny smile on your lips. "I hate her."

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling a bit too.

"Did you kill her?"

He shakes his head. "Marcello?"

"No, not sure what Luca did with them yet."

You go quiet, fingers playing with his hair but your eyes get that far away look in them. "I get to do it," you finally murmur, eyes flickering up to his face. He can't stop the look of surprise on his face, eyebrows shooting up.

"If you decide to do something, I get to do it. At least to Marcello."

"No," Nico immediately declines, impressed by your request but not even considering it. "I'm not putting your prints on anything around that."

"You don't get to decide." you argue, eyes narrowing into a threatening look. "I'm the one laying in the hospital bed, I get to decide."

He scoffs back a laugh, feels the scold on the tip of his tongue because he's in charge, not you. Yeah he lets you pull him around a lot, but when it comes to people from his past, in his home country, hurting you? That's his to deal with.

"M'not budging on this y/n," he says instead "and I'm not fighting with you about it. I don't want you near them."

Your mad, he knows that. Can tell by the bratty way you roll your eyes, your hand falling from his hair as you cross your arms over your chest and turn your glare to the window. Even the tick of your jaw, knows your biting at the inside of your cheek.

Luckily the tension between you two is cut after a moment because Timo comes barreling into the room with a bag of goodies and Nico's siblings following behind him.

"Bestie boo," he cheers, and Nico rises from the bed to get out of the way. He doesn't miss the way you light up, all the fight in you dissipating as you too grin at Timo.

He begins to dump out the contents of the bag, a few drinks and snacks that you like, a fuzzy blanket from Nico's room back at the house and some clothes for you. Nico shakes his head, moving over to hug Nina and Luca.

"How's she doing?" Nina asks him quietly, glancing over at you and Timo. Luca leans in, wanting to listen in without letting you overhear.

"She's ok," Nico sighs, "been through worse but she's scared and a little confused still. Doesn't really remember what happened before we got there."

Nina frowns sympathetically. "Did she ask-"

"Yeah, she asked about them." He grumbles, rolling his eyes. "She wants to take care of Marcello but I don't want her near them so we gotta do it before she's released tomorrow."

Luca's eyes widen, an amused smile splitting his face. "Really? I underestimated her little bro. Maybe we should let her-"

"No."

"Come on Nico, its her right-"

"I said no." Both Luca and Nina step back at his tone, not used to hearing him like that. In all fairness, they haven't seen him this protective over something since he was 8 and found a stray cat on his walk home from school.

He clears his throat, rolls out the tension in his shoulders. "We're gonna do it tonight. Nina will stay here with her, make sure she's ok until I get back."

Zeroing in on his sister, he points back towards you. "Under no circumstance do you let her know what we're doing. And no matter how bratty and whiny she gets about it- because she will- do you sign her out early. I mean it Nina, no sisterhood here or whatever, she stays in that bed."

It's obvious she doesn't agree with him, the way she guiltily looks over his shoulder at you but either way she nods. "Understood, Nico."

"I'll tell Maja to come back her up," Luca says, "She won't crack like this one will."

Nico nods, thanking them before motioning over to you. The three siblings move closer, stand around the bed as Timo offers you his list of favorite movies to watch while your stuck in bed. You've laid the blanket out on your lap, the teddy bear from Nico's childhood bedroom squished under your elbow, and an open pint of Gelato in hand. Timo blabbers away, you lick at the spoon in hand, and just nod along.

You look happy. Eyes shining and cheeks smiling, and it's such a relief to Nico. Maybe he should leave Timo here with you, at least then you'll have a distraction you actually like. Unfortunately he needs his second hand man for this one, so you'll just have to deal.

Nina climbs up onto the bottom of the bed, adding her one thoughts on the movie Timo is gushing about and Luca takes over the chair at your bedside.

He smiles, reaches up to push back your hair and press the lightest kiss possible to your hairline. You ignore him, taking another bite of your dessert and laughing at something his sister says. Luca has dug out a spoon from somewhere, and he's reaching around Timo to steal from your pint.

You tilt it towards him, eyes widening when he takes a huge glob out and shoves it in his cheeks, smiling innocently. Nico can tell it'd coffee flavored now, your favorite, and he reaches for the spoon in your hand only for you to snatch it away.

Then your shooting him a cold look over your shoulder, simply tilting your head when he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. You turn back towards Timo, ignoring how both Luca and Nina are looking between you two with concern.

He huffs, clicks his jaw and looks at his sister.

Brat, he mouths, shaking his head when you share a bite with Timo this time. What is he going to do with you?

~~~~

The nurse comes back a few hours later. Your squished on the bed with Nina, laptop hooked up to the TV and watching a movie about rowing that Timo really liked. Him and Nico have folded the couch down into a bed, and they're sprawled out on it eating chips watching as well. Luca fell asleep about ten minutes in, sock clad feet propped up on your bed and head rolled back on the chair.

You're all so engrossed in the movie you don't notice her at first. At least until the lights are flickering back on and everyone is temporarily blinded.

Shooting up like their asses are on fire, Timo clambers to his feet and pauses the movie. Nico rises, shoving his feet back in his shoes and walking over to you bedside.

"Sorry to interrupt, I just came to see how you're feeling and offer to take that brace for you."

Sighing out in relief. "Oh god yes please," you practically beg, sitting up. Nina slips off the bed and over by Timo, motioning for a bleary eyed Luca to follow. He yawns, smacks his lips before getting up and dragging his feet over.

"We're uh gonna step out." Timo offers, turning towards the door and pushing Nico's siblings out with him. He shakes his head, watches them all leave the room without their shoes.

"It must be nice, having so many friends around." The nurse comments, pulling on latex gloves.

"Yeah," you agree, "I'd be miserable laying here all day without them."

Nico stands over you again, protective and watchful as the nurse steps up to your side and reached towards the brace.

"It's gonna be sore and uncomfortable, but the swelling should be gone for the most part," she informs and you nod. "I am going to bring you an ice pack to keep on it just for comfort and it'll help with bruising."

You take a deep breath, nod again and her fingers latch on the velcro in the back. Squeezing your eyes shut, the sound of the velcro unsticking cuts through the room and you jump just the slightest bit.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining and you squeeze hard enough that your nails pinch at his skin. Not that he cares, not when the brace falls loose and away from your neck, and he's coming face to face with the lines of bruising.

It looks awful, all dark blue and purple. You wince, the column of your throat flinching and Nico thinks he might throw up. Fuck, he doesn't even know how you've been talking and laughing so much with that kind of injury.

Finally, you open your eyes and let out a shaky breath. Titling your head up, you let the nurse gently feel over the tender flesh. You squeeze his hand tighter, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

"You're hurting her," Nico grumbles, and the nurse removes her hands.

"I'm ok," you swear, "really you didn't have to-"

"Yeah you did," Nico cuts in, shooting you a warning look. "Let her at least ice it before you go poking around."

Pursing her lips, the nurse inhales and nods. "I'll be back with ice," she tells you, taking the brace with her. "but you're looking really good so far. It could've been a lot worse."

Neither you nor Nico speak until she's left the room. The door clicks shut and you're taking your hand out of his, instead tucking them under your arms.

"She's just doing her job," you mumble, staring ahead rather than at him. He huffs, annoyance bubbling under his skin and he rakes his hands through his hair.

"Ok you can be mad at me," he grits, "but you don't get to act like this. If you're gonna be a brat go ahead, but not in front of everyone like that. I'm trying to look out for you-"

"I can take care of myself!"

"You obviously can't!" He exclaims, a little harsher than he meant to but it gets the point across because you're actually looking at him right now. "Look at where we are, y/n. You couldn't take care of yourself, fuck even I couldn't take care of you."

Your eyes shift, realization setting in. "Nico..."

"Be mad at me, baby, please do but until we're back home I'm in charge. And I'm not taking any fucking chances."

His chest is heaving when he's done, guilt settling into the place of the anger when he looks at your stupidly soft eyes and the bruises that marr your skin.

You don't say anything for a moment, and he rubs at his forehead where he's got a headache building. "I want to take a shower," you finally say. "Will you sit in there with me?"

He nods. "Yeah of course."

~~~~

Timo, Luca, and Nina have returned to the room when Nico follows you out of the bathroom. Someone has made your bed for you, the fuzzy blanket you love laid out nicely with the teddy bear tucked against the pillows. You've changed into sweats and one of Nico's shirts, already feeling better now that you're clean and back in your own clothes.

You can tell the moment they register the bruises on your neck and the stitches on your forehead. It's like all the air is sucked out of the room, the sharp inhale of Nina rattling you.

Shrinking into yourself, you force a small smile as you climb back onto the bed. You can feel Nico glaring at them over your head, biting back a laugh when it has the same effect on his older siblings as it does his men. He's so good at bossing people around.

"It'll look better when I ice it," you say, combing through your damp hair. Nico runs a hand up your spine, gingerly holds the back of your neck.

"It looks fine now," he responds, "trust me, nothing could ever make you look not beautiful."

You tilt your head back, meeting his gaze and smiling gratefully. He ducks down, kisses between your eyes before taking the brush for you and finishing untangling you hair.

"The only one of us that looks pathetic with bruises is Nico," Timo jokes, sending you a wink. "That's why they take months to go away on him."

"That and he's always pressing on them." You respond, giggling when Nico scoffs behind you.

"I forgot to tell him to grab your bathroom stuff," Nico changes the subject "so I don't have any of your hair products."

"That's ok-"

"I can braid your hair for you!" Nina offers, smiling widely. "I love to braid other people's hair and I never get to. "

You laugh. "Yeah okay!"

Nico moves out the way, handing the hair brush and a tie to his sister. She stands behind you, carefully dragging the brush through your hair again. Nico sits at the foot of the bed, watching his sister with apprehensive eyes.

"Watch out for her stitches Nina."

You roll your eyes. "I know Nico," she scoffs, "I am older than you, ya know?"

He holds his hands up in defense but stays exactly where he is. Thankfully Nina is really careful when she parts and braids your hair, leaving it loose so it'll still dry but also not pull at your stitches. The soothing motion of her fingers and Nico's protective gaze lull you, and by the time she's done your blinking sluggishly at your boyfriend.

"Alright," he grunts, rising from the bed. "I think it's nap time for you baby."

There's something off about him when he helps you slip under the blankets, tucking his teddy bear into your chest and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He exchanges an odd look with his brother before perching on the edge of the bed, cupping the side of your face in his warm palm.

You yawn, snuggle into his hold. "M'gonna put the TV back on for you, ok?"

Eyes fluttering, you nod.

"I gotta run for a bit but I'll be back before you know it. And you can call me if you need absolutely anything."

The thing about Nico is that he never likes to tell the full story. He's not usually like that with you but with the younger boys, yeah. And you can always tell when he does it because he gets all calm and sweet about it, more than he usually is. He also gets vague.

Which is how you know this run he is taking, obviously with his brother, is to take care of Lena and Marcello. Hurt, you sit up and look at him with knowing eyes, hoping he'll cave and tell you the truth.

Instead he clears his throat, looks down at his feet and then runs his hands over his thighs. "I uh, I put Luca's number in your phone too, just in case." He says, getting up and moving around the room to collect his things.

Crouching down, he hits play on the laptop for you. You look over at Timo, see the guilty pull on his face. Luca looks guilty too but when he meets your gaze, he winks and then sticks his tongue out at his brother.

"Good, get outta here." Nina cuts in, voice far too cheery to be believable. "We need girl time, I'm inviting Maja."

Nico's tucking his wallet back into his jeans pocket when he finally looks at you again, jaw ticking when you simply stare back at him with begging eyes. You want to yell at him, to cry, to tell him that you deserve to have a place in this. That you need this.

Instead you bite your tongue, turn your gaze to the window outside when your eyes sting, and silently wait for them to leave. You hear him sigh, then his footsteps as he heads towards the door. Timo is the only one to call out goodbye.

Feeling betrayed, you ignore them all, even Nina, and close your eyes. You have a headache again.

~~~~

You wake up from the insistent buzzing of your phone, sleep riddled brain assuming it’s Nico. When you read the screen it’s not in fact your boyfriend, but might as well be.

“Hey Holtzy,” you answer, looking around the hospital room. Nina and Maja are nowhere to be seen, but neither are Nico and Timo. Your stomach twists, anger bubbling in your throat.

“Oh god you sound awful,” he moans woefully. “I told Nico he should’ve let me go too. With three of us there you’d have been fine.”

“I am fine,” you insist, forcing a laugh. “It’s really not that bad, Nico is just dramatic.”

“Well yeah he’d probably die without you.”

Your heart warms. The boys used to always tell you how tough he was, how the only thing that kept them from messing up was that terrifying flare in his eyes when he’s pissed. It’s sweet that they point out how loving he is with you.

“You’d all die without me,” you reply, looking up as Nina and Maja enter the room. They carrying bags of food, Nina waving around the packages in greeting.

Forcing a smile, you gently wave back. If her and Maja are still here that means Nico is still gone. And it’s been hours. There’s only one thing a man that protective and angry can be doing for this long.

Wreaking havoc. Havoc you should be a part of. You bite your cheek.

“Oh yeah,” Alex agrees easily. He gets quiet for a moment. “Can I FaceTime you? Just to see that you’re ok?”

You melt. “Yeah of course.”

Pulling the phone back from your ear, you hit the FaceTime button. It rings for a half second and then a grainy picture of Alex pops up.

“Hi mom,” he greets, the picture coming into focus. He’s got that big, cheesy Alex smile on his face and it’s makes you laugh.

“Shut up,” you giggle, then realize the background behind him. “Are you in my room?”

Alex pulls the phone back, holding it up so you can see that he’s actually tucked under the blankets like he’s sleeping there. You catch a flash of the paws of the dog at his feet. At least you know he’s actually taking care of your baby.

“You asked me to house sit.”

“I thought you might sleep in the room I decorated and made for you.”

“I like your bed,” he shrugs, putting the phone back down. “And I miss you. And Nico too I guess but don’t tell him in your bed. Wait- he’s not listening right?”

You laugh again. “No he’s not here right now. I’m with his sisters.”

"He's not with you? That's fucked. I'll go out right now and sit there with you. So will Merc and Luke, they told me."

A part of you wants to say yes. "I'll be ok. You know how Nico is, I probably won't see him again until it's time to go home."

Alex makes a noise of disagreement. “Timo made it seem like you were dying, ya know? Like I thought we were about to be taken out to Switzerland to wage war, he was so angry.”

You shrug, flattered but mostly annoyed. “Yeah, I like that idea."

Alex hums, the line going quiet for a moment. “Well I’m really glad you’re ok,” he murmurs “and I’m sorry it happened to you. I can’t imagine how scary that would be.”

You shrug again. “I mean, worse has happened. Besides, I knew what I was getting into when I got with Nico. It’s just a part of the life.”

“Crappy though, that it always happens to you.” He comments.

“Only twice,” you awkwardly laugh. “Besides, I got Johnny out of it the last time so.”

“So even though it was worse at least you got your Italian buddy.”

You nod, trying not to think about the run in with the Flyers all that time ago. Honestly, you’re lucky that as the girlfriend of a very powerful mob boss, you haven’t been taken and threaten more. You suppose that’s a testament to Nico and how he trains his men.

“Ok I know it’s late there so go to bed, yeah? I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Alex sighs but nods. “Ok, call me if you get sad or lonely.”

You bite back a laugh, knowing he’s the one that’s lonely and wants to talk but won’t admit it. “Of course,” you agree. “Night Holtzy.”

“Night y/n. Feel better.”

You wave, waiting for him to hang up first. When he does you drop your phone to the bed, expectantly looking over at the girls.

If they can read your gaze, they don’t say anything about it. Instead Maja tilts her head sympathetically. “How are you doing sweets?”

“Fine,” you respond, raising an eyebrow at Nina who is pointedly avoiding your eyes. “Nico still gone?”

Frowning, she looks at you guiltily. Her eyes look so much like Nico’s. “Yeah he’s still out.”

You nod, checking the time, wishing you were home. You already miss Alex. It's torture, sitting and stewing in this bed as you go over and over the words you should've told Nico. You feel helpless, almost as helpless as being tied to a fucking chair. Especially when you go to get up from bed and both Nina and Maja rise too.

They're under orders from Nico. They're your security guards. You almost roll your eyes, veins hot with rage and disbelief.

"I was just gonna go for a walk." You say.

"We'll come with!"

"No, that's ok," you decline, tilting your head, daring Nina to argue. "I have a headache and just need quiet. Besides your eating, I'll only be ten minutes."

She hesitates, shares a look with Maja but eventually they both settle back onto the couch. You think Nico and her might have underestimated how scary you can be when you're enraged.

Without another word, you grab and phone and make your way out of the room. You go slow, not wanting to worry them but truth is you feel fine aside from the head and neck pain.

Waiting until your a few corridors away from your room, you pull out your phone and pull up Luca's contact. You hit call, holding it up to your ear. It rings for awhile but he does pick up.

"Well hello there," he greets smugly. "I had a feeling this was coming."

You smirk, pleased to know you gauged him correctly. "Don't act too chummy, Nico will know it's me." You warn, looking around for Nina or Maja. No one has followed you.

"I need a favor."

You can hear his delighted smile even if you can't see it.

"Hit me with the plan, then."

~~~~

The plan comes through the next morning. Nico has yet to return from his "business" and you know he must be taking it seriously because he's yet to notice that late last night you had his jet fly to Newark and back, this time with your men onboard.

Luca, as the king of Switzerland, used his pull to get you discharged early, hours earlier than Nico had originally planned. You're already up and silently packing your things when the doctor comes in with the discharge forms. The click of the door wakes Nina from her slumber on the couch bed, and she sits up all bleary eyed and confused, looking around the room with confusion.

You don't even bother greeting the doctor, just take the form and sign it, stuffing the recovery papers in your bag.

"What's going on?"

You look over your shoulder at her. "I'm going home early," you say, tucking your phone into your pocket. Nina quickly gets up, stumbling to find her shoes.

"You can't-"

"If you and Nico want to play games with me, that's fine." You cut off harshly, "but I can play them back. Rat me out, call Nico, I don't care, you're not stopping me."

"Y/n..." she sighs sadly, and you're a little disappointed in her lack of fight. Turning around, you cross your arms and glare at her.

"You of all people should get it Nina," you scold "I deserve to fight this fight for myself. I was the one hurt, not Nico or you or Timo. I gave up my whole fucking life, my family for this and no matter how much I train or help out you still think it's ok for Nico to stick me with a babysitter and lie to me?

"I'm just as capable as the rest of you."

Nina looks guilty, her features melting down into one of shame and you'd maybe feel bad if you weren't so upset.

"I- I'm not gonna call Nico," Nina murmurs, "you're right, you deserve to see them at the least so go ahead. Just let me know if you need anything ok?"

"Thank you," you say earnestly. "I'll keep you updated."

She quickly walks over, gently hugs you and strokes through your hair. "Be safe, be smart."

You grin, nodding in agreement before stalking out the room. Luca has arranged for a car to pick up Mercer, Luke, Jack, and Alex from the airport, and that car sits outside the hospital doors when you step out.

The windows are tinted so dark you can't see through them, but Mercer rolls down the passenger seat window to grin at you. You light up at the sight of his gapped smile, laughing as you yank open the doors and climb in.

"Why hello boys," you greet, turning around to smile at the triplets in the back. Alex reaches forward, ruffles your hair.

"Good to see ya boss." Jack greets, kneeing the back of your seat.

"Where are we heading?"

You roll up the window, punch in the address to the house you've been staying at. "Need a quick stop to change and get my things, then we've got ourselves a hot date."

Mercer pulls out onto the road, smirking devilishly as he does so.

~~~~

Luca's funny, you'll give him that. He's left Lena and Marcello and whatever other aiders and abetters locked up in the same house they'd taken you too. The car Nico and Timo have been driving around is parked in the drive, and you and the boys pull up next to it and hop out.

"Everything should be in the trunk," you instruct, knowing Luca left it unlocked. Sure enough when Jack pulls the hatch open, an array of guns, ropes, knives, and weapons are splayed out.

The boys are all eager as they choose their guns, Luke giggling goofily as he stocks up on ammo. You let them all pick first, tying the signature red bandana around the tender skin of your throat. They've all knotted theirs around the meat of their thigh, bright against their black jeans.

You take a pistol and three rounds of ammo, stuffing them into the black cargos you put on earlier. Just in case, you hook a medium sized knife on the waistband too. The sleek and thin tranquilizing gun they never use slips easily into your waistband too.

"Alright, we're going around back. Luca's left a window open that Jack can slip through to let us in the door. I'll lead us down to the basement and you'll follow my lead."

Lined up like soldiers, they all nod in agreement.

"Any instructions from Nico go unheard, you're with me and will follow my orders. If he tries to fight us, I will take care of it."

"Yes boss," they chirp in unison and you can't help but smirk. Nico has trained them well, you'll give him that. Too bad he also trained them to be loyal to you too.

You don't remember much about the house, just that the floors were white when you got there, and red when you left. In a way it's nice that you don't remember, it makes it easier to step inside and silently cross the large room. The chair you'd been tied to is nowhere to be seen, but the large pool of dried, flaking blood still is. You're unsure of how much of it is yours and how much of it is Lena's.

The boys are bit too heavy footed on the staircase down to the basement, so by the time you're stepping through the threshold all eyes are already watching. Both Nico and Timo are armed, the barrel of their guns trained on you. Luca is holding his lazily, looking proud when you meet his gaze, your own pistol in hand.

Nico's eyes are furious. You've never seen them so black, so enraged before and it makes you're blood boil. You're very confident you can out-anger him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He demands, but you ignore him, instead looking around the room. The floor is a dull, cement grey color with drains. There's doors to other hallways or rooms, you assume, most likely holding places for hostages. You don't need to explore them luckily, because the two people of concern are chained on their knees at your boyfriend's feet anyway.

"Let me in or I'm jumping down the stairs," Jack comments behind you, and you catch the way Nico bawks, obviously recognizing the voice. Motioning behind you for them to follow, you take a few steps further in. One-by-one they file in, lining up next to you with their guns in hand.

"Are you-fuck y/n..." Nico's staggering for words, clicking the safety back on his gun and shoving it his waistband behind his back Timo does the same, but Luca just casually waves his at you.

You meet the burning gaze of Nico, take in how splotchy his cheeks have gotten, how his eyebrows scrunch and teeth clench. He's got that mean flare of his nose and curl of his lips, but you don't care.

He angers even more at your lack of response, snarling as he steps forward and you can already sense him reaching out to take ahold of your wrist. You flinch, step back and lifting your pistol towards him. It's on safety, he knows that, you know that. But the motion stops him all the same.

Freezing, he narrows his eyes at you. It's a cruel look, mocking and cold. "You're not gonna shoot me, sweetheart."

You shrug, tucking the gun away on the holster o your thigh. Nico smirks, amused and condescending. The look doesn't last long, not after you draw out the tranquilizing and aim at the thick part of his thigh.

"You must think I'm really fucking stupid, huh?" you spit, so angry you feel like you're vibrating. You don't give him the chance to respond. "A fragile little lapdog of a mob wife, stuck in a locked room with a fucking babysitter. Laying around and waiting for you to fix everything."

The pause in your words gives him a chance to speak. "I left you somewhere safe," he hisses "I left you in the best place to be dotted on and cared for while you get better! I-"

"You lied to me!" You yell, "you looked me in the eye and said you had errands to run, that you'd be back soon. And you knew I didn't believe it, you knew how much it fucking hurt and you still did it!"

He scoffs, shaking his head and you know he's trying to blow you off, trying to take control of everything like he always does. Clicking his tongue he looks behind you at the boys.

"Take her and get out," he barks, letting his gaze linger on all of them. When they don't budge, he gets angrier.

"Now, you little shits! You shouldn't even be here!"

Loyal, none of them move. You tilt your head, smug when he looks at you.

"Aim," you instruct, and as if they were being controlled by puppet strings, all four boys lift their weapons and aim at Nico's feet. Shocked, he looks around bewildered.

"You see, when I told them that their boss had left abandoned me at the hospital for hours to keep me from fighting my own battles, they were pissed. I mean everyone knows how you've been training me, how hard you and Timo have been pushing me so that Philly never happens again, and then you take away something I've earned, well they were upset.

"Rightfully so since they're my men as well."

Nico looks around for help, shooting Timo and Luca a look as if to say "what the fuck is happening?". He must read his brother really well though, because his shoulders tense when he sees Luca's sparkling eyes.

"Luca, you didn't," he sighs, "tell me you're not in on this."

The older Hischier purses his lips, waits a moment before taking a step over to join you. "She had a good plan," he defends "and good reasoning for being here."

Lining up next to the boys, Luca joins them in aiming at Timo's feet.

"I know you don't get it Nico," you comment "I know you think that you were doing the right thing, that you were protecting me. But you never even stopped to consider what this means for me.

"I've spent so many nights dreaming about Philly, I wake up with my hands numb from all the times I've imagined fighting back, proving myself. Because it was humiliating and dehumanizing, and I'll never get the revenge I deserve for what happened."

Your words have stalled him, shaken him if the softening brown of his eyes is anything to go by. If there's anyone that loathes Philly as much as you do, it's Nico.

"Almost as humiliating as having my supposed fiance lie to my face in front of his whole family, force my best friend to turn his back on me, treat me like some broken little girl.

"I'm not broken, I can handle this life, I chose this life. And you don't get to decide when and where I can actually be a part of it."

Knowing you've got him, you tuck away the tranquilizing gun in exchange for your pistol. Clicking the safety off, you step towards Nico. He looks almost ashamed now, like a puppy that's been kicked and scolded too many times.

"Did you stop for a moment and think that maybe I'd get my memories back if I got to come here again? If I got to see them? That maybe I can piece together what happened if I looked them in the eye one last time?"

Embarrassed, he shakes his head and reaches out for your hip. "I don't want you to remember, I don't want you knowing how they hurt you."

Stepping away from him, you scoff. "You don't get to choose that Nico! I deserve to know everything."

With a flick of your hand over your shoulder, the boys all follow closer behind you, their weapons pushing Nico off to the side so you can step around him.

"I also deserve to keep my promise." You murmur, finally taking in the two kneeling before you. They look awful. Marcello, bloodied and bruised, shaking on the cement floor. He doesn't even look up at you.

Lena on the other hand does, not as badly beaten as her cohort, but her lip is split open and there's an old ratty bandage around her thigh, blood stained and brown.

She's crying when she meets your gaze, begging and pathetic, and it makes you laugh. You don't break eye contact as you aim the gun at Marcello.

"I did say I'd be the one putting the bullet between his eyes, didn't I?"

You don't wait for her to answer, finger easily finding the trigger and with a ringing bang, Marcello slumps to the floor. Lena screams, wails harder and harder.

"Y/n, please. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

You lock the gun and put it away, cutting her off with a gentle shush. "I'm not gonna kill you," you tell her. "I'm not even gonna touch you. It's beneath me really.

"Making bad people suffer, however isn't. So I have a plan for you, with the help of my brother-in -law back there that controls all of Switzerland."

Lena sniffles, hiccuping and shaking her head.

"As of now you're no longer a Swiss citizen. You and you're family have been exiled, away from Europe and away from North America. And when I unchain you and I fix up that thigh of yours, you gonna be escorted out without a single belonging. In fact, I think your parents have just been deported.

"Anyway, you're going to hobble out of here and be grateful that I'm such a forgiving person. Because I should kill you, for what you did to me, for what you did to Nico, using him like that. Instead you'll spend the rest of your life poor and pathetic, and when you think of me you'll remember that not only am I sleeping with the Jersey king every night, but the Swiss one takes orders from me as well."

Glaring, you turn to Mercer and nod towards Lena. "Unchain her and take her upstairs, I know a real cozy spot she can wait in while I finish up."

~~~~

You've calmed down by the time you finish cleaning and stitching up Lena's bullet wound. So has Nico, who's standing by the open hatch of the car, head hanging low as he changes out of his stained and dirty shirt.

He looks up when he hears your footsteps, everything in his gaze hurt and sad. You imagine you look the exact same.

You pause in front of him, begin unloading the weapons from your pants. "You left me there overnight," you mumble, placing the guns and ammo back where they belong.

"I was trying to hurry, I promise."

"No you weren't" you laugh humorlessly "because you were mad and hurt, and I was hurt, so you wanted them to hurt even more." He doesn't even deny it.

"I had a nightmare," you admit, voice wobbling. "that I was back here and everytime you got close enough to me, I'd blink and it'd be Marcello instead. It really sucked to wake up and not be able to tell if it was a dream, because you still weren't there."

Nico sniffles and you look up to find him standing over you, eyes glossy and red-rimmed. "I had to do something," he explains, voice cracking. "I was so fucking angry and guilty I thought I was gonna explode. And I didn't want you seeing me like that."

You frown. "I'm not scared of you Nico, ever."

"You might have been, if you saw the way I tore through everyone in there."

"When are you going to understand that I'll always pick you, I'll always be on your side? Even when you pull shit like this?"

His hands find your hips, drawing you the slightest bit closer to him. "When are you going to understand that I love you more than anything in the world? That I get mean and tough because I'd literally fucking die without you, and that's scary. And I don't know how to show you that, so I do it by protecting you."

You reach out for his shoulders, let your fingers feel the smooth skin of him, pink and cold in the winter air. "You can protect me and still let me rule by your side," you tell him. "I didn't want to come here and hurt them, interfere with you. But I needed to see it, for myself."

Nico nods, his wet eyes searching your face. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should've let you fight with me, be a brat whatever. Most of the time it's for my own good anyway."

"Yeah it is," you smile. "and I'm still upset."

He sniffles, blinking rapidly as a tear slips down his cheek. "I'll make it up to you, shoot me with the stupid dart or whatever you want. Lesson learned."

You laugh a bit at that, lean in to brush your nose against his. "I make a pretty good prinzessin, huh?"

Biting his lip, he smirks. "A fucking sexy one too. Not used to my pillow prinzessin walking all over me like that, but it looked good on you."

"It was tiring," you mumble, eyelashes fluttering. "I don't think I'd like to do it all the time."

"No?" He hums, "That's ok, you can just fill in for me whenever you feel like it."

"Ok," you agree, and then your pressing your lips to his for what feels like the first time in years. He's soft and warm, licking teasingly at your bottom lip and then dipping his tongue in when you part your mouth for him.

Nico always kisses you like honey, no fight is ever gonna change that.

Next

[zippidi-dooda]

Overblot design ratings starting at the bottom

DISCLAIMER: everything is ranked higher than Leona cause his toes

7) Score: 6.5/10

I think this is self explanatory-put shoes one, cause 1: ew, dirty floor may step on a nail and 2: you got long nails, if you stub a toe, the nail will break or be pushed back into toe and it will hurt, though I will say I like the "tights" or ink covering the legs and ankle bangles. The stitched rags are a cool idea but compared to other designs, it doesn't exude fear or an aura of power. I like the upper half though, it suits you and I like how the fur across the shoulders represents Scar's mane. The hair and makeup is nice, but the makeup is lacking compared to others.

6) Score: 6.8/10

The makeup is amazing, love the addition of the crown->that plus the shell necklace are a lovely representation of Ursula. I was surprised and happy to see this ob transformation but it's kinda just a darker version of Azul's merform to me so lacking a bit of creativity, still like it though

5) Score: 7/10

Admittedly this design is very plain compared to even the two before him, but it gains bonus points for changing flame color based on emotion like Hades' hair, the hair here is also styled just like Hades' so if we think about it, someone could have literally blowed his hair out during the battle like happened to Hades, plus I like the mask, similar to the masks that light up when you talk which is fitting for Idia's chatacter

4) Score: 8.3/10

Shoes are freaking amazing, the snatched waist, the tight fitting ... uh skirt, dress (?), the dangly jewelry, amazing, love baggy-Jammi but Jamil needs to wear more slick clothes like this, black and blood red suit him, makeup is great, inky chin pubes are ehh, turban is a bit over the top but it represents Jafar when he first gets his power which is fitting and the medusa hair is also representative of Jafar's transformation and looking at Jafar's dialogue we now know that deep down Jamil loves puns which is great. Will say that although each character gets a skin tone alteration when the ob, I found Jamil's most apparent and he kinda just looks ashy, but still a great design

3) Score: 9.3/10

So when I first saw this, I hated his crown, sun, peacock headdress thing but seeing it more and more, it's kind of fitting, Vil is the only one who could rock something so "extra" (I mean that in a nice way, idk the right word for it), and if it represents a peacock it matches with the feathers on his legs, and I guess the claws do too. Honestly, I think this design was more inspired by the Evil Queen in Snow-white and the Huntsman (I may be wrong on that, don't quote me) but again, it is very fitting for Vil as a character. The subtle hints of red are nice, love the crown and the puffed sleeves and the dark veil. All of it is very grandiose and regal very queen, very Vil, but the dirty collar peaking out (and kinda the sleeve style) reminds me of Snow White which can be fitting for both the Queen and Vil because they both hate the one people praise but are always overshadowed by them, no matter what they do people will remember and connect them to the one they hate, even if they had succeeded in getting rid of them. The corset's okay, just shows that the rose has thornes, makeup's okay looks like his dorm crown and makeups nice but not much else

2) Score: 9.8/10

He is adorable. Should I be scared, yeah probably, but he looks like an edgy cupcake I love it. Has one of the best makeup designs, love that the crown stays but just becomes more deadly, love the choker, love the spiked collar, love the high boots, his heart is displayed for all to see, double belts are always a safe bet, the painted roses represent the queen how things went wrong, the thorny vines wrap around him showing how sharp his words can bite, and the cards hanging from him, dyed in black like him are a lovely addition to the ensemble because it represents how even when gone mad, the Queen's soldiers dutifully followed her orders and came to her defense which, if Ace hadn't done anything, would be exactly the case for all the Heartslabyul students when Riddle overblotted

1) Score: 10/10

I mean, come on now, look at him. I love the minty skin tone here its representative of Maleficent and really suits him. The cape shifting from purple to thorny green flames is also representative of Maleficent at the end of the film which I love, the crossing cage on his chest and under his skirt reminds me of the gates/windows/doors patterns of the time Sleeping Beauty is based in and we know he love architecture so points there, the style of the shoes/tights also look like the style if the time a little dorky but cute. He wears bangles and ink runs up his shoulders but I think it's interesting his arms and hands are mostly uncovered which is uncommon in almost all of the ob forms. The design of his corset is nice, don't really get the point of the belt tied in front but hey if it come down to it, grab and throw him over your should then sprint away, he'll be thrown off for a second but greatly angered afterward but hey distraction. The hair brushed back really seems to make him look more royal than he normally does which is nice and we can see his scales which are perfectly enhanced by the makeup outlining them. Now, I do like the green glowing between the plates of his tail but seeing the same pattern going on in his horns throws me off since I think I got too used to seeing his normal horns, his horns do look longer here but I'm not entirely sure that's true or if its just an optical illusion cause of the colors. Overall, the true extent of his strength and power are showcased clearly in this form which I think is great, and I see his cape is still dragging on the floor despite his height and the fact that he's floating so I need to see him walk down the stairs and swish his cape around like Mother Gothel

And that's it, what ranking would you give these Overblot forms? Which one would you wear?

[stervrucht]

Steve Harrington\Eddie Munson | Rated: M | cw: Blood, Death, Gore | Tags: Alternative Universe: Vampire, Horror, Dom/Sub undertones, Implied Mind Control, Dubious Consent, Vampire!Eddie, Hotelclerk!Steve | AO3

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The Graveyard Shift - Part 2

They are heading northwest from their last gig in Cincinnati. The highrise of the city center quickly makes way for long stretches of road until the city is nothing more than a bunch of lights in the rearview mirror.  

The guys are giddy, strung up from another good show—another good hunt. Eddie is happy to leave Ohio behind; to be returning to his home ground of Indiana. 

True, the state itself isn’t much to look at, but in the darkness of the night, he doesn’t care much for a scenic view. 

When was the last time he laid his eyes on the vast green fields, the rich yellow of dried wheat, or the cerulean sky? Eddie can hardly recall—it has been decades after all.

Compared to the first half of the 20th century, the 80s are a spectacle to behold. The morals are looser, the clothes more revealing, and hunting was never this easy—never this fun. Eddie likes the way he can walk around at night now, bathed in light and color like he’s living once more. 

And the music is something else. 

It’s hard to believe he might have missed out on this—on the leather and the smoke and the loudness of it all. The shrieking of guitars and voices that perfectly captures the chaos of the world; to instill darkness in mortals, not through death, but through music. 

What a splendid age indeed.

Indianapolis shines like a beacon of light in the distance and in this new age, this time of neon lights and secondary colors, it might as well be Eden itself. It shines in darkness much more than it ever did in the light of day.

When they arrive in the city, Gareth drops him off at some gaudy hotel, and it’s their usual spiel. They stay at separate hotels, avoid suspicion, and then once their show is over, they leave again. Ditch the city and trade it for another. 

Rinse and repeat, for centuries to come.

The hotel looks different from the last time Eddie stayed there a decade ago. New owners have tried to put their mark on history. Tearing down the old and replacing it with artificial plastics that seem so prevalent at this time. 

It’s cute, the way they try, but few are ever remembered. Most will disappear into obscurity—just another name on a tombstone until that erodes as well.

Most, but not Eddie. 

Not Corroded Coffin.  

The new marble floors are laid in a checkerboard pattern—polished to such an extent that they reflect anyone who walks on them. It’s a giveaway, but Eddie doesn’t worry about that. Humans are remarkably dim; remarkably easy to fool. 

Not that he minds. Eddie prefers his food a little dim.

Behind the front desk stands a boy. Eddie could smell him from outside—the smell of lifeblood and light. It matches his looks in every way. He has an easygoing charm to him. 

The boy doesn’t notice him as he massages his temples and Eddie feels like a fox stalking a rabbit unaware of its impending doom. 

After so many decades, it’s easy to move without sound—it’s thrilling, the way people jump, the way their eyes go wide as they grow uncomfortable. 

Unconsciously they are aware that something is wrong, but humans have grown out of touch with their instincts. They push the feeling down because in this age, evil can be found in board games, books, and the wrong kind of love. 

Evil comes in human form—it needs no horns or teeth or claws. It comes in clever tongues, greedy hands, and an insatiable hunger for more, m ore, m ore—

When Eddie sees the boy, he thinks goodness may persist in equal measure. It gnaws at him, the familiarity of it, but he can’t allow himself to go there—not again. It’s a specific kind of anguish. A yearning he can’t mute.

He yearns for Steve before he even learns his name. 

And it sounds like a melody, the way his heart rate spikes when Eddie grabs his wrist; his scent a perfect blend of nervous curiosity and excitement, unpolluted by the stench of fear.

Eddie feels his mouth water as his nails dig into his flesh. He pulls back. He has indulged himself too much already. 

Not this one. Not yet.

Around 4 AM, Eddie orders room service, and some kid with freckles shows up at his door. 

Tommy

He smells like trouble—it radiates off him like perfume as his cheeks flush with expensive wine and stuffs his face with the food Eddie provides. 

Call it his last supper. Eddie does have some humanity. 

Eddie watches him with a lazy swirl of untouched wine in his hand. Tommy doesn’t notice he doesn’t drink. Tommy doesn’t notice much of anything. 

Tommy talks. 

He talks a lot and it’s all bullshit. But, fuck, if that isn’t the type of person Eddie enjoys toying with most—cocky and a little rude. They break so beautifully.

The guys have given him shit before, called his tastes fancy. And maybe they are right, just a little, because Eddie has a type. 

Tommy isn’t it, but he’s close enough. 

He’s sure the guys are fine with this one. Someone unreliable, who oversleeps and skips out on work. Someone who won’t be missed—not until it’s too late.

Yes, Tommy will do , Eddie reminds himself as he sinks his teeth into the boy’s neck. Tommy whimpers helplessly, somewhere between pain and pleasure. The initial resistance wears off fast as the venom fills his veins. Eddie feels his heat seep into his body and he moans against his skin; grabs the back of Tommy’s neck to pull him closer.

There’s nothing quite like blood. Nothing quite like the overwhelming pleasure of life on his tongue as Tommy’s pulse grows weaker and his skin pales. 

When Eddie feels Tommy’s heart hitch he knows it’s time to stop. He pushes himself away and creates some distance as he watches. Pupils blown and white-faced, Tommy’s jaw moves helplessly for a minute or so before Eddie sees him fade.

Eddie stands up then. He hates the final spasms—hates the actual dying part, no matter how often he does it. It reminds him of himself, and how he skirted death before he became what he is now.

He moves to his window and stands in front of it. The city is alive with lights, regardless of the hour.

Reflected in the window he sees Tommy’s body give a singular violent jerk.

Death throes.

“It won’t be like last time,” Eddie whispers as he thinks of the boy named Steve.

—

It is morning and Robin is seated at their little breakfast table with a slice of half-eaten toast and a newspaper in front of her. The kitchen smells of bread and coffee and it instantly makes Steve relax. It’s the scent of coming home, especially now that he works night shifts. He makes himself a cup of tea and sits down next to her. 

Robin takes another bite of her toast and looks at him. “Alright, spill it.”

“What?”

“You have something to tell me. I can see it in your face.”

Steve sends her a playful frown before pulling the two backstage passes from his breast pocket and sliding them toward her like they’re business cards.

Robin studies them a moment before looking back at Steve. “Remember when I said they were weirdos? That definitely extends to them backstage.” She pushes the passes back to Steve. “How did you even get this?” 

Steve steals her toast and takes a bite. “Their lead singer—”

Robin snatches her toast back and pulls a face. “Dude, swallow before you talk.”

“Sorry.” Steve swallows heavily, “As I was saying, their lead singer is staying at the hotel. Tommy didn’t show up tonight so I had to pitch in on room service duty. Kinda sucked balls, but hey, I got something good out of it I guess.”

“And you were so good at pushing a cart this guy just happened to give you backstage passes?” Robin gulps her coffee and eyes him over her mug.

“So what if I was?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Okay, fine. He invited me into his room and made me have wine with him. Happy now?”

“Steve, that’s really weird.” She frowns into her mug.

Steve fiddles with the handle of his mug. Robin is eying him intensely and she’s probably right. It’s a little weird, but she’s also overly suspicious. “He was just being nice. It was nearly morning. Maybe he felt guilty about the food.”

“Food? He ordered food at what, 5 AM?”

“Hotel guests are always weird. You don’t know half of it. This actually only classifies as mildly unusual.”

“So, what say you? Will you join me tonight?”

“There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”

“No chance.”

Robin seems to be giving in and Steve feels strangely victorious. “Okay, I’m coming with you tonight, if only because I’m pretty sure this guy has some unbecoming intentions with my sweet Steve.”

Steve laughs and takes a sip of his tea. Robin smiles back at him, tentatively.

“Highly unlikely. I’m not a girl.”

“That means nothing, Steve. Believe me.” Robin flips the newspaper to the next page and they sit in silence for a moment.

It’s a rainy morning and Robin will have to leave for class soon. Steve hates how their schedules contradict each other now. He squeezes her hand affectionately and gives her a reassuring smile.

“It’ll be fun.”

Robin smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

—

“Are you really wearing that?” Robin asks him that evening.

Steve looks himself down. He’s wearing a polo and jeans. Hardly an offensive outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh Steve, they’ll eat you alive,” she says affectionately. “Hold on.” 

Robin leaves the room and Steve moves to one of the mirrors to study himself. His outfit isn’t like Eddie’s on the pamphlet, nor like the people in the record shop, but he can’t see what’s wrong with it. 

“Catch.” Robin throws a black fabric ball at him and Steve turns around, just in time to get hit square in the face. He yanks it off his head and unfolds it. 

“ Heart ? Isn’t it a faux pas to wear shirts of other bands?”

“I didn’t know you spoke French, monsieur Steve. Did you pick that up at that fancy hotel of yours too?” Robin is smiling at him.

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s the cross-words okay. Now answer the question.”

“It’s fine…ish. Besides, it’s the only thing I have close to your size. It’s better than your polo, believe me.”

Steve sighs. “Fine, I’ll be right back.” 

—

Robin is right, this isn’t his scene. Steve self-consciously tugs at the slightly too-tight shirt. He’s glad she made him change because people are indeed dressed differently here. 

Steve hasn’t attended many music events. Music has always been in the background, not something he consciously paid attention to.

Corroded Coffin hits differently.

It’s the darkness and heat of the small concert hall. People are dressed in black and leather, drenched in defiance and sweat. But the ambiance is magnetic and it lures Steve in. It makes him believe he can become one with this collection of misfits as the drums pound in his head with Robin at his side. Guitars cut through him and Eddie Munson’s voice stitches him back together.

Robin sticks to his side, hands on his arm. She’s wary and Steve doesn’t understand how she’s not taken by this, by the music that sounds so much like love feels.

Robin eyes him suspiciously. Her eyebrows are knit together as she holds his face and scans his eyes. “Did you slip in some alcohol while I wasn’t looking?”

Steve swats her hands away. “Of course not. Where would I even get that?” 

Steve isn’t drunk. He can’t be, but the atmosphere feels charged with it. “Just relax Rob, have fun,”

The music is loud and talking is hard. Bodies are squeezed against them from all sides as they make their way back into the crowd. 

When Eddie announces their last song his eyes briefly meet Steve’s in the darkness of the crowd. And surely Eddie can’t see him, not really—it’s too dark and the stage lights are too bright. But when he hits his guitar and runs his lips against the metal grid of his microphone, Steve thinks he looks like a god come to life. 

Steve is mesmerized by it. Can tear his eyes away from the way Eddie’s mouth moves over the microphone like a lover would. Steve hardly hears the music at this point. The world is faded at the edges and it feels like nothing exists except for Eddie and himself.

Eddie looks at him, and this time Steve is sure he sees him. Eddie’s eyes hold his, lips moving over the microphone as he sings his final note.

The crowd erupts in cheers and the spell is broken.

When the band moves off the podium, chaotic mumbling rises and fills the concert hall. The lights come back on and suddenly all intimacy seems gone.

Rob squeezes his arm, her eyes shooting towards the exit in signal for Steve. She pulls him along, making her way through the mass of bodies around him until she comes to a halt, so suddenly Steve almost crashes into her.

In front of her stands a bulky man dressed in a suit. 

“If you’ll follow me,” he says. He doesn’t wait for an answer, but briefly turns his back, walking towards the stage rather than the exit. 

Robin shoots Steve a wary look, but he ignores it, grabbing her by the wrist to pull her with him. She resists for a second before giving in.

The man leads them through the crowd to a door near the stage. He holds it open for them and beckons them to go through. The man steps past them until they arrive at another door. He holds it open again and when Steve walks through he is greeted by several other people lounging around. 

They’re all girls. 

Pretty girls with dark clothes and drinks in their hands—champagne flutes and elegant wine glasses. Some seem a little buzzed; somewhere between the softness of alcohol-induced relaxation and nervous anticipation.

The door falls shut behind them and the girls look up at the sound. They greet them, some with a soft ‘hi’, others with a wave. Some of them ignore them altogether.

Steve doesn’t really care. He isn’t there for them. The girls don’t seem to care either—mostly focusing on themselves or the friends they brought.

“Let's get out of here Steve,” Robin whispers in his ear. She’s glued to his side, antsy to get away, and Steve has to admit the situation feels strange. Now he’s not engulfed by the crowd the high is starting to wear off, and the atmosphere unsettles him a little.

The room is pretty barebones and all the girls are wearing VIP tags around their necks, just like them. 

“Let's just get one drink, then we’ll go.” Steve offers. He makes his way over to a table with various drinks—mostly alcohol. Steve decides to be responsible and grabs a soda for Robin and himself. Robin seems nervous enough as is, she doesn’t need Steve’s drunk ass on top of everything.

A little while later the man who led them earlier is back and asks them to follow him once again. Muffled music sounds throughout the hall until a door opens and suddenly music is blasting. 

The room is dark with a few lights scattered around casting warm light and dark shadows. The room is hazy with smoke, walls lined with brick, and Persian rugs scattered on the hardwood floor. It must be one of the rooms for performers to relax before and after the show, Steve realizes. 

Loud cheering erupts as one of the band members downs a glass of red liquid in one go. Some of it runs past his stubbled chin and he wipes at it with his sleeve.

The large man clears his throat and the band members look up towards the door opening. 

“Come in, come in!” A guy with blond curly hair motions. They disperse and the members seem to gravitate towards their respective guests.

“Steve!”

Eddie walks towards him with open arms and Steve feels that familiar pull again. It tugs at his mind and swirls in his gut with a sense of unfounded longing.

Before Steve can react, Eddie has him engulfed in a tight hug and Steve can feel the buttons of his denim vest dig into his chest and the skin of his cold bare arms stick to his own sweat-slick skin.

“And you must be his friend.” Eddie releases him and turns to Robin. He doesn’t hug her.  Instead, he takes her hand with a cordial bow and introduces himself as ‘Edward Munson, but call me Eddie’.

The tension in Robin’s posture seems to relax a little then. “Robin,” she says.

Eddie’s attention turns back to Steve and he eyes him up and down.

“Dig the shirt,” he says, clicking his tongue. Steve looks down at the tight fabric stretched over his chest and pats at it self-consciously.

“What did you think of the show?” Eddie looks at Robin, then at Steve.

“It—it was great. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Steve says. Next to him, he sees Robin’s eyebrow move ever so slightly. It’s a tell, but Eddie won’t know that. Robin thinks Steve’s full of shit. Is probably judging his life choices at this very second. That’s fair. Maybe Robin is just having a bad day. 

“Great show,” Robin echoes, but there is little passion behind her words. She looks at her watch, and honestly, Steve thinks it’s a little rude with Eddie right in front of them, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are glued to Steve. A handsome little smile growing on his face as he throws an arm around his shoulder.

“Say, we’re heading to a club after this. Afterparty kinda deal. Care to join us?”

Steve opens his mouth to answer, but Robin beats him to it.

“We have class tomorrow morning.”

We. Now that was a lie. Robin really wants to get him out of here.

“I don’t,” Steve corrects her, “An after-party sounds fun. Can’t sleep anyway—night shifts you know.” Steve shrugs.

Robin shoots him a desperate look. “Can I steal him for a moment?” She asks Eddie. He nods and releases his grip on Steve’s shoulder.

Robin leads him to one of the corners of the room. The music is loud, and the other band members are chattering with the girls. One of them has a girl on his lap as they engage in a very intimate conversation.

Once they’re out of earshot, Steve focuses his attention on Robin. “What the hell, Rob!”

“Steve, something about this is off. I swear.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Steve says, but it doesn’t sound convincing. Robin quirks a skeptical eyebrow as she folds her arms over her chest.

The thing is, Steve doesn’t really care. This is the most fun he’s had in a good while. Life has been boring these past few months. He is just finding his footing again after Nancy dumped him. He doesn’t understand why Robin can’t let him have this.

“Steve, I mean it. I’m going home. I really do have class in the morning. If you know what’s good for you, you will come as well.”

“I’m staying, Rob. I can take care of myself.” He crosses his arms over his chest and stares her down.

Finally, Robin relents. She sighs, pulls the VIP badge from her neck, and shoves it in his hand. 

“If you’re about to do something stupid, look at my name and maybe—don’t do that thing,” she says. She gives his arm an affectionate squeeze and makes her way to the door, looking back once with furrowed brows before closing it behind her.

Steve stares after her. His excitement tainted with a strange guilt as he stands there alone.

“You alright there?”

Steve turns around and sees Eddie looking at him with worried eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My friend—” he looks at the door again and frowns, “she had to leave.”

“That’s too bad, man. Listen, we’re about to head out, yeah. I got us a taxi, we’re sharing with Gareth and his harem.” Eddie points a thumb over his shoulder towards the guy with curly blond hair. He’s surrounded by three girls.

Steve shoots him a smile, and when he stares into Eddie’s impossibly dark eyes, he feels all guilt wash off him and that strange sense of longing and anticipation return.

The taxi is a tight squeeze. One of the girls takes the passenger seat, which leaves Eddie, Gareth, and two additional girls in the backseat.

A blonde girl decides to share a seat with her friend by sitting on her lap and Gareth squeezes himself into the middle seat next to the girls. That only leaves one window seat.

“Not a bad idea,” Eddie says, staring at the girls, “you can sit on my lap,” he offers, sending him a little smile. Steve laughs sheepishly until he realizes Eddie meant what he said.

“Won’t you be uncomfortable? Maybe we should get another taxi—”

“It’s only ten minutes. It will be fine,” Eddie waves his hands. 

Steve relents and settles himself into Eddie’s lap. They’re both guys, it isn’t weird at all. He was on the basketball team in high school. He knows guys can be close without it having to mean something. Maybe if he were a girl, he would be worried.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he hears their morning conversation echo. 

‘That means nothing, Steve. Believe me.’

He shakes her off, even when he feels her VIP pass poke into his thigh from the pocket of his jeans.

The car ceiling is low, and he has to bend his neck a little with the added height of Eddie’s thighs beneath him. There’s no shifting or moving about. He sits planted firmly, full weight on Eddie’s lap. They can’t wear a seatbelt like this, which annoys him somewhat. It thrills him too, the edge of danger, however small.

Everything about tonight is strange and exciting.

The car ride is short indeed. He feels Eddie’s bones dig into the back of his legs, and Eddie holds him, arms wrapped around his waist, but it’s only to steady him. Steve tries not to move too much. He doesn’t want to make it more uncomfortable for Eddie than it has to be. It’s a tight squeeze as is, with all five of them on the backseat, and it doesn’t help that Gareth keeps messing with the girls on his side. His elbows poke into Steve’s side now and then, and it makes him shift in Eddie’s lap.

“We’re almost there,” Eddie breathes against his neck. Steve feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His will is soft and pliant and he feels like he’s drunk again. He wonders how Eddie’s doing that; wonders why Eddie even invited him along when he could be surrounded by a cohort of girls as well, although he loses that train of thought quickly.

Steve stumbles out of the taxi once they arrive, and Eddie steadies him when he steps out behind him. There’s a large line in front of the building—so long that it cuts around the corner— and Steve can only imagine how long it will go on from there.

The red neon sign spells out ‘Candlelight’ and it casts a warm hue on the concrete sidewalk. It makes Eddie’s hair look a deep auburn and fire-red reflect in his black eyes.

Steve hasn’t been to many nightclubs in Indianapolis. Before, when he was dating Nancy, there was little reason to, and now that he has his job at the hotel, his nights are often otherwise preoccupied. Robin indulged him once after he and Nance broke up, but after getting hit on by several guys, she quickly decided she never wanted to do it again. 

Not that it matters. Steve liked spending whatever free night he had watching movies with Robin just fine. And he would like to meet his next girlfriend organically anyway, not in nightclubs through beer goggles or whatever.

Their entourage is moving towards the double doors of the nightclub and Eddie lays a heavy hand on his lower back. He feels his fingers grace his skin where his shirt rides up; feels Eddie’s sharp nails rest on his skin like talons. It sends a shiver down his spine. 

Once one of the other guys talked to the bouncer, they’re allowed in, and Steve is a little starstruck by the way they get to skip the line. 

As they walk through the double doors, Steve is engulfed by light and moving bodies to music that thumps so loudly he can feel it in his bones.

A strange night indeed, he thinks as Eddie guides him in.

---

@shunna

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[strongbeats]

How would your dream exam be like?

My dream exam!

Well, I would love to have a regular cardiologist. Someone who monitors my heart, has logins to the bluetooth devices I wear that monitor my heartrate constantly so they can check in whenever.

So we will have a good relationship, I show up for my weekly appointment and they start with a physical exam. I’m palpated all over, lungs and heart listened to for a long long time.

I undress while they ready the wires, connecting me to our machines. Monitors beep, speekers thud, and my heart appears on the screen as an ultrasound probe is pressed to my chest.

Then, we go over the spikes in my heartrate they recorded during the week. I tell them when I worked out, when I was nervous and what about, and when I was turned on and orgasmed. We listen and watch my heart thud faster as I get more embarrassed talking about my week, especially when I was touching myself and they ask about it.

Then, it’s time for my weekly stress test. I hop on the treadmill, a warm up, and get my heart thrumming fast in my chest. It thunders around the room, and we watch the valves snap on the ultrasound screen.

The exercise bike is different. It has a special seat that I’m already wet enough to slide right down onto, moaning as my heart jumps. I bike hard, bouncing on the seat and watching my heartrate climb higher and higher. 201 is the goal today. We make it as I cum, hard.

I lay back on the exam table and we watch my heart calm down, pausing and skipping as it slows to its regular resting rate.

Depending on the doctor’s schedule, we may take some private time the two of us to listen to my heart slamming my chest again, with a double headed steth so its intimate as they enter me again and get my heartrate climbing.

Hope that helps!

[pluto-supremacy]

Viktor Headcanons: dating a ftm!disabled!reader

➼ This is a very self-indulgent set of headcanons as a disabled trans man, but hey I hope you enjoy!

➼ Reader doesn't have a specific disability, I'm trying to be as general and inclusive as possible so a wide range of disabled persons can relate

➼ No beta we die like Silco

➼ Warnings: mentions of gender dysphoria

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

Mobility aids out the wazoo laying around you guy's room. Canes? Check. Walkers? Yep. Wheelchairs? You bet. Crutches? I could go on here people

He learns everything he can about your disabilities. I mean everything. Mans is staying up til the wee hours of the morning reading up on how to help you, general limitations from the disability, etc.

Will remind (and force) you to take breaks

"My love, you've been on your feet far too long. Sit down, I'll go get you a glass of water"

You're gonna have to do the same for him too, Viktor doesn't know how to take his own advice

The shower of course has a shower chair (if you need one) with everything within reach

Viktor keeps a section of clothes set aside for your bad dysphoria days. Whether that means baggier clothes, long sleeves, backup binders, his clothes that he always catches you stealing. Anything to try and make you feel more comfortable in your own skin

If you bind, he reminds you to take binding breaks. He'll make sure you can run off to your shared room to take that breather and not have to worry about people staring at you

Keeps easy food to make when you both don't have the energy to make anything

Your guy's bed? The comfiest ever. Lots of pillows, blankets, anything to help your joints and help you feel comfortable

Heat intolerant? Ac is cranked with fans. Cold intolerant? Well now it's the opposite

Uses his experience with hextech to invent new devices for you to help

"I know you said that you were struggling with your heart rate, so I made you a monitor. Small enough to wear under your shirt and it logs everything for a week so we can write it down. It also tells you what you were doing when it spikes or drops. Need some help putting it on?"

He's the first one to advocate for you, and the loudest. A building isn't ADA accessible? Oh, he's on it. Someone is being ableist? He has a sharp tongue and if all else fails, he has a cane too

You're both always there for the other's doctor's appointments. Viktor will drop his work to come with you (which is saying something since he'll deny food, water, and rest to continue his work)

He has a little trans pin on all of his clothes, it's one of his little ways to show you he loves you

If you ever get gender-affirming surgery, he's now doing his absolute best to take care of you while you're recovering. No heavy lifting, helping you get dressed, setting alarms to give you your prescriptions, fluffing up pillows (since you will be on bed rest for a while, doctor's orders), anything and everything he can do to make the healing process quicker and easier for you

"Y/N, if you try to get up one more time I will have to tie you to the damn bed. The doctor said no strenuous activity and to rest for a few days minimum. Rest, please"

Will loudly and aggressively correct people when they misgender you on purpose (he's nicer about it when it's a pure accident)

Can, will, and has yelled at your doctors before. Whether it was an appointment for your disabilities and they refused to take you seriously or if a doctor is 'not convinced' you're trans. Needless to say you never had to see those asshole doctors again

Helps you decorate your mobility aids, whether that be stickers, covers, or making add-ons for them (like a secure bag holder on your wheelchair, for example)

While Viktor isn't really one for shopping, he will happily take you to different shops to try and find you clothes that make you feel comfortable in your own skin. And of course afterwards you guys go out for a little treat, like ice cream or coffee

[danikamariewrites]

𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

Prologue

A/n: welcome to my first series! I’m so happy to be putting this out and I’m excited to hear your thoughts. Please feel free to comment or ask questions :)

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death, reader being trapped in a tower, deceptive Beron

At thirteen years old you were still showing no sign of powers. Your father had always told you tales of the fire that runs through your veins. What your birthright is as the last living heir to the Autumn Court.

He had always seemed so happy to have you as his child. So proud.

Though the expectations he set terrified you, you were happy you have Beron as a father. When your father visits your tower he always asks what you’re learning this week or if you found any new hobbies to enjoy. There wasn’t much to do in your tower but study and draw. In your free time art had become your passion. So much so that your father and tutor, Lady Briar, couldn’t ignore your talent.

Everytime your father visits you ask him to tell you a story. Finally, after a decade of begging him for the tale of your family, Beron gave in. Your mother and two older brothers had loved you very much, he would tell you.

“When you were just a babe,” he would start the same way every time, “Relations between us and the Night Court were unstable. Their High Lord was hell bent on dominating Prythian.” This tale would always scare you. Make you afraid of what you would have to face once you took the throne of the Autumn Court. You’d be alone as High Lady. You didn’t like to think about being without your father.

During their legendary battle your mother and brothers had perished at the hands of the vile High Lord of Night. It was so awful and graphic your father never let you read any of the history books about it.

After he would tell the story he would leave. Giving you no other information about your family. Only left with your imagination to draw up what they looked like.

By twenty-two your powers had come, but you didn’t dare speak of what they were. You didn’t have the bright flames he’d hoped for from you. Father had told you of the blue flame that came once in a generation. An Autumn High Lord hadn’t produced a child who could wield such power in centuries.

On your own you have discovered your daemati powers. You knew about them from the history books Lady Briar had given you about the High Lords of Prythian.

Every time father talked about powers your gut twisted. Your heart rate spiked. And your palms would sweat. Father mistook it for excitement about learning how to control the fire that was your birthright.

On the day before your fiftieth birthday your father came into your room. He was frantic and disheveled. Telling you he loved you, cherished you even. He told you that you are the most important person in the world to him. That the day you were born he was blessed by the Mother herself to have you in his arms

The next day he didn't visit. Nor the day after that. Then a week had gone by and nothing. No one had come to your tower.

He never missed your birthday.

Calming your mind and body you sit criss cross on your bed. Slowing your breathing you cast your mind out to the main house, far from your lonesome tower.

There was chaos and quiet. Advisors scrambling but no solid answers. But not a soul is worried about you.

A knock at your door brought you back to your body. Unlocking the door with your mind you quickly stand, smoothing out the skirts of your dark autumn red gown. Lady Briar enters, looking as solemn and stern as ever. You give her a deep curtsy. “Lady Briar,” you greet. Looking up you see her expression changed to one of slight sorrow. “Princess,” she starts. “Your father, he…he has been taken with the other High Lords. That is all we know for now, your grace.” Without another word Lady Briar turned and left.

For weeks you paced your room, going about your usual routine. Reading. Painting. Sleeping. Repeat. You were going stir crazy. You were also desperate for answers as to who dared keep your father captive.

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it in your gut that there was more to what happened.

If no one would tell you then it was time to hunt for answers on your own. Which means going somewhere you’ve never gone before.

You have to leave the comfort of the tower. Well, it’s never been comfortable. As the years droned on you’ve felt more cramped and isolated than anything.

You had no supervision. No one to tell you no. Lady Briar certainly isn’t an authority figure to you anyways.

It took days of projecting your mind into the house, watching to learn the guards patterns. Where you would need to hide yourself and whose mind you would need to hold on to.

Throwing your cloak on, taking a deep breath you make your way down the spiral stairs of the tower. There were less than you thought there would be.

Letting loose another breath, resting your hand on the door that separates you from the real world, you square your shoulders and push.

Taking in the night sky from below was so different than your window. It seemed wider. Endless. Feeling the soft ground under your boots made you want to run and jump through the Forest House grounds.

Perhaps another night.

[borahaerhy]

Need Me - jhs

Summary: After moving to a new town to reinvent yourself, your past comes back to haunt you.

Genre: Yandere!Hoseok, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: PLEASE READ FOR THE LOVE OF GOD- Hoseok is literally a stalker, obsessive, manipulative, and abusive, extreme dubcon, mans breaks into your house, rough sex, unprotected sex, choking, bruises, dom!hoseok, pet names, creampie, praise kink

Please do not read if you are not comfortable with any of that ^^

You walked into your apartment after what had been a long day at work. You sighed as you kicked off your shoes and let your bag fall to the ground. You started to walk back to your kitchen when you heard the sound of one of your cabinet doors closing. You lived alone.  

Your anxiety spiked as you walked into the kitchen, your heart rate quickening as you saw Hoseok wiping down your counters with a sponge.  

“Hey, babe. You have a good day today?”  

You’d known Hoseok for a while now, as you used to work with him. During the time you worked together, you became office buddies. Getting drinks outside of work even on a few occasions. What you hadn’t known about him at the time was that he was immediately infatuated with you, obsessed even. He had to get to know you, had to get to know everything about you even before you were willing to tell him.  

And so he did, and he made sure he always did everything perfectly so that you’d fall for him. You didn’t exactly fall for him, but you did fall for the way he made you feel. The way he always put you first; listened when you were stressed, helped you out whenever he could.  

You had gone out for drinks with him one evening, nothing unusual until you had gotten a bit carried away with your liquor. Then you had the dumb ass epiphany that Hoseok had been the man of your dreams, he was just waiting for you to realize it. So, you kissed him. A lot. He drove you home and even did the whole gentleman act before you dragged him into your bedroom, then there was no stopping him.  

You hated to admit it, but that night was the best sex you’d ever had. You laid under him screaming for what felt like hours as he made you cum over and over again.  

But then you couldn’t get him to leave.  

Any time you wanted some space, he came up with something that the two of you needed to do that second, together. He’d pull you back to bed, fuck you senseless and reward you with pancakes in bed and kisses everywhere. He did everything for you, and for you to just think you can do whatever you pleased without him was unacceptable.  

You moved. Changed jobs, got as far away from him as you could and he still found you. It had been less than a month, and here he was, cleaning your kitchen that had barely gotten the opportunity to get dirty. He took one look at you and the smile slowly left his face as his eyebrows furrowed.  

“Baby? You seem stressed, did something happen at work?” He tossed the sponge into the sink as he walked over to you, hands extended out. You took a step back, confused as to how he found you. He stopped, looking at you as if you were the one acting strangely. “What’s wrong, Y/n?”  

“What are you doing here, Hoseok?” He rolled his eyes as he grabbed your hands, not letting you back away from him as he then wedged you between the counter and himself.  

“I know how much your new job has been stressing you out, I thought I could help ease your anxieties by helping you out; now you don’t have to worry about cleaning,” He pulled your hands up to his lips and kissed them both gently. “Let me help you with that stress now, hmm?” He leaned down and pressed soft kisses along your neck, knowing exactly how you liked to be touched.  

“Hobi, you need to leave,” Your voice was weaker than you’d intended as he chuckled against your throat. He shook his head as his fingers dug into your hips roughly, leaving claiming bruises on your skin that showed the world that you’re his.  

“You need me, baby. You need me just as bad as I need you,” he thrust his hips into yours, the stiffness of his erection prodding its way under your skirt, his tip rubbing against your clit.  

“I mean it, Hoseok–” He didn’t let you continue, starting to get pissed off with your words. He shoved you onto the counter and spread your legs, pulling you back to the very edge where you could feel him poking you through your tights. He shoved your skirt up and ripped the crotch of your tights, his nimble fingers quickly making their way into your panties and into your wet folds.  

“ Fuck , baby you’re so wet. You can’t tell me you don’t want me, don’t need me, when I know you do,” You clutched onto his shoulders as he quickly pulled his cock out of his jeans and shoved it inside of you, thrusting harshly as he let out a deep groan. “You fucking need me baby, fuck , you wouldn’t know what to do without me,” His grip on your thighs tightening as he kept thrusting in and out of you as fast as he could.  

You stayed silent, trying not to moan as he ripped your tights even more. He groaned loudly as he pulled your shirt down, taking your bra with it, your soft delicate breast now visible to him. He chuckled lightly, his agile hips moving faster than you thought they could as he took your breast in his mouth, sucking on it harshly as his fingertips scratched down the length of your thighs.  

“C’mon, baby. I know you wanna scream out for me. I know how good my dick makes you feel,” He was breathless as he whispered into your ear, the heat of his breath tickling your neck as one of his hands moved to rub into your clit. “I can feel you clenching around me, Y/n. Don’t even try to fucking lie to me,” his voice now a low growl as he hastily pulled your shirt over your head and practically ripped your bra off you before he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist.  

He wrapped one arm around your back as the other gripped your thigh and pulled you off the counter almost as quickly as he’d pushed you up against it. He dropped to his knees and not-so-gently laid you down on the hard cold floor of your kitchen, where he could continue to fuck you at a much more ruthless pace than he had been. Your skirt was pulled all the way up so that he could see exactly what he was doing to you, and exactly how wet you were getting as his dick forcefully moved in and out of you.  

His full body weight rested on your hips, his palms pressed into your hip bones as his fingers curled around them, giving himself more leverage to slam into you. “You’re so fucking hot, fuck , I’d kill for this pussy,” His words were to himself more than to you, but they still made you woozy as the squelching sounds echoed in your spotless home. “You’re fucking mine, you know? All. Fucking. Mine.”  

His thrusts got harsher with every word, hitting your g-spot perfectly as you bit your lip so hard the taste of blood fell onto your tongue as you tried not to scream out his name. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he moved one of your legs up over his shoulder, allowing him to reach even deeper into you.  

“Fuck, baby I love you so much,” his eyes rolled back into his head as you felt your orgasm building up inside you; and Hoseok could definitely tell. “I know you love me, just say it,” he breathlessly spoke with his face centimeters from yours, eyes soft and looking so longingly into yours as he tried to get you to say what he wanted – what he needed – back. “Tell me you need me, tell me you love me, fuck, tell me anything, sweetheart. I need you,” he kissed your lips, forcing his tongue into your mouth as you finally moved your hands to tangle in his hair, moaning loudly into his mouth as you clenched down onto him.  

He smirked against you as he moved his hand back down to circle your aching clit. You moaned out as his lips left yours, licking the small drops of blood off his lips as he brought his other hand up to grab your bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it slightly as he smirked down at your fucked-out state, desperate for him to make you cum.  

“This is why you need to stop resisting me,” he growled as he wiped the blood from your lip, before he brought it back up to his lip before he licked it clean, moaning at the taste of you on his lips. “It only makes it worse for you, baby,” He leaned back down, slamming into you with everything in him as he pinched your clit roughly between his fingers. “You fucking need me, baby. Just fucking tell me you need me.”  

You cursed under your breath as you kept your eyes shut, not wanting his gaze to influence you anymore than it already had. He left a sharp slap on your thigh before he brought the same hand up to your throat, wrapping his long fingers around it and squeezing, stifling the yelp that was coming out of you. “I said,” Your eyes shot open as he growled, tightening his grip on your neck. “Tell me you fucking need me,” As he spoke, you felt your orgasm reach its height as you let out a loud moan, brain fuzzy with pleasure as you decided to give in.  

“Fuck, I need you! I need you so bad, Hoseok, fuck,” You called out between moans as you felt his hips stutter as you let the first one escape, releasing into you at the sweet sound of your voice, the sound of your praise filling the room along with the skin slapping that he had inflicted upon you. His head came to rest in your shoulder as his grip on your neck loosened. He let his full weight relax on you as his hips slowed their movements, before halting altogether.  

The sounds of your deep breathing filled the room as you let your fingers play mindlessly in his hair, so used to the feeling of him against you. He lifted his head up and brought his hand up to your face, looking at your lip that was still bleeding slightly with a furrowed brow.  

“Let me get you a damp cloth to help with that while I run you a bath. Then you can tell me all about your day, Love.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before getting up and immediately running to get you your warm rag to help with the puncture wound from your own teeth.  

And just like that, he was in again. Making your dinners and threatening anyone who dared speak to you. You were his, and he would never let you get away again. 

[measuredingold]

to be in love and to be loved

chapter five: the liars club

authors note: helllooo ! i meant to post this last night but forgot... oops ! anyways, new chapter yay ! it was fun writing this and it's mainly in noah's pov. some parts hurt me to write so sorry for any pain caused ? feelings are just hard to figure out. anyways, as always enjoy and feedback is always appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x ofc x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist / cross-posted on ao3

word count: 8.6k

cw: ~kissing~, angst, feelings not being understood, someone (noah) is stubborn and emotional, some yelling during an argument, sexual identity crisis has begun lol, 18+ (minors do not interact.)

Noah wakes up the next morning confused, with a raging fucking headache, and alone. It freaks him out at first, the feeling of the cold bed sheets against his fingertips when he reaches out causing his heart rate to spike, but then he sees his bedroom door ajar. His heart slows down, only briefly, and he groans as he wipes a hand down his face. 

If he's being completely honest, he feels like he got run over about 50 times last night by a goddamn bus, and he can't even remember it. How much did he drink last night? With another groan he rolls over in his bed, face burying into the pillow next to him. He tries to sort through his mind around what exactly happened yesterday, but the only things he can remember are the moments leading up to the bar and then… nothing.

He remembers being on edge all day, freaked out of his fucking mind because he needed everything to go exactly as he planned because if it didn't he'd probably lose it. This wasn't their first show, no, but this was their first album. First time people were coming out to a show to see them specifically, excited to listen to the album they'd been anticipating for months now. He almost made himself sick at one point yesterday.

He remembers that it went way better than he ever expected. The crowd's energy was something he'd never experienced before, and there was no better feeling than having people actually sing your words back to you. He's been working at this for so long and he finally feels like this is exactly where he's supposed to be. Making music for people like him, searching for something that makes them feel like they belong. 

Then he remembers all the congratulations, the pictures, the first few shots at the bar... and that's about it.

He's sure it was just a regular night out for them - throwing back shots and enjoying each other's company - but there's this nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him he's missing something important. He doesn't dwell on it for too long, thought fleeting the very second Naomi steps back into his room. 

Wet curls wrapped up in a towel on top of her head, adorn in one of his old shirts that he's sure she had stolen years ago. All warm and clean and probably smelled amazing, like lavender. One of her favorite scents. He remembers her telling him that it was a smell that brought her comfort, easing her anxiety. She shuts the door behind her quietly and he assumes it's because she thinks he's still asleep, and his assumption was correct when she turned around and yelped.

"Shit!"

Noah can't help but laugh, pressing his face further into the pillow. 

"You suck." Naomi whines out, but he can hear the smile in her voice. "I thought you were asleep."

"I just woke up." He grumbles, followed by a yawn, and flops onto his back. "I thought you were gone."

Her gaze softens as she makes her way towards the bed, and Noah waits for her to sit before throwing an arm around her waist, face burying against her thigh. He practically purrs at the feeling of her fingers immediately tangling in his hair and his eyes flutter shut. He could fall back asleep just like this.

"Why'd you think I was gone?"

"Bed was empty and cold." His voice was muffled as he pressed his face further into her thigh, wanting to be as close as possible. "Thought you left me."

"I would never." He hears Mimi hum above him, and he smiles to himself at the giggle she lets out. She scratches at his scalp again and it takes everything in him to not moan out in pleasure, the feeling having his eyes flutter shut again. 

Seriously, if it weren't the consistent pounding behind his eyes, he would've fallen back asleep already.

"Head hurts." Noah grumbles, reluctantly pulling away from her to bury his face against the pillow beside her legs. "How much did I drink last night?"

"You don't remember?" There's something behind her voice, an edge that wasn't there before, and if he wasn't battling this headache right about now he'd question it, but doesn't. 

Instead he shakes his head, sighing out, "No. I don't really remember much."

The silence that follows doesn't make the ever growing pit in his stomach ease any at all, and there's a nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him something happened and he needs to remember it now, but he's so tired. He'll try to remember later. He feels Naomi shift next to him and clear her throat, and he peeks open an eye to watch her get up off the bed.

"I'll get you some water and Ibuprofen, okay? Fix that headache of yours." She's speaking so fast, that edge still there, and it has Noah opening both of his eyes, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Okay."

His stomach drops at the smile she gives him, one that doesn't quite meet her eyes and very much strained before she slips out the door. He falls back the second it shuts, eyes trained to the ceiling. What happened last night that has Mimi acting so... weird? He tries to search through his hazy memories of the night before but nothing comes up. It's as if whatever happened was completely wiped from his memory. 

He tries telling himself that it's nothing, that he just drank way too much and maybe said something a bit out there in front of too many people and that's why Naomi is acting weird. Maybe she doesn't want to embarrass him? He knows he can say some outlandish shit when he's drinking. He covers his face with his arm, groaning quietly to himself.

Everything’s fine. It was nothing... right? 

...

Something's off.

Noah would say these last few days have been fine, great even. The response to their album was amazing, people were loving it. In hindsight, everything was literally perfect. Except... it wasn't? He couldn't exactly put a finger on it, but the uneasiness from a few days ago still lingered, making a home in the pit of his stomach.

Naomi had been acting weird still, though he thinks she seemed more on edge than anything. He assumed it was because she was leaving tomorrow, and the edge was the sadness seeping out into the real world. He tried his best to mask his own sadness, hating that he has to see her leave again, but he's telling himself that they won't go as long without seeing the other again. That'll make it easier.

Jolly seems to be normal. Nothing off balance with the Swede. He’s always been kind of odd, anyways. Folio the same way. Now that he thinks about it, those two actually seem to really be the only people he's encountered the last few days. His brows furrow as his mind thinks back to the last few days, glimpses of the interactions slipping through his mind. 

The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes the only people who truly seemed off were... Naomi and Nicholas. His stomach turns, the unease creeping through his veins when he realizes he's barely seen Nicholas at all since their album release. 

He's barely left his room, door shut at all times, and Noah tries to think of the times he's even seen the male leave. His mind races, thinking of all the possibilities on why Nicholas was being weird, barely leaving his room and speaking to anyone - especially Noah - and for some reason his mind always wanders back to the damn bar that he still can't fucking remember. 

Why can't he remember?

Something settles in his bones, something like... fear? He's not sure what he's even scared of. Maybe it was the not knowing. If he could just fucking remember what happened that night, maybe it could give him some sort of insight on what happened and why everyone is being so fucking weird and -

"Noah?" 

His eyes moved from the television, stuck on some Netflix show he definitely had not been watching to Naomi, who was standing near the couch. She looked... anxious, for better words. Face flushed, brows furrowed, lips turned down into a frown. It's as if she was in pain, but he knew she wasn't. He knew her better than he knew himself sometimes, and he knew there was something on her mind. His stomach turns painfully.

"Yeah?" He clears his throat when his voice breaks at the end, lips pursing. "What's up?"

Naomi chews on her bottom lip, hands wringing in front of her. "...Can we talk?"

Those three words punch Noah in the chest. Can we talk? That could mean so many things. So many things that scare him, that make him think oh no, something's wrong and that the worst is about to come. He's heard it so many times before in the past, he just never expected it to be from her.

"Oh." He swallows, a lump now forming in his throat and he nods. "Yeah. Of course."

She doesn't seem to spot his panic right away and he realizes maybe he's getting better at his poker face, and comes to sit next to him. She's so close, so fucking close, but Noah feels like she's never been so far away. Their legs are brushing but she feels worlds away, not even braving a glance at him. 

He's going to be fucking sick. 

Something is wrong and he doesn't know what and he swears it has something to do with that god forsaken bar he can't remember anything about. Something happened there that made her far, out of reach, and it was obviously so bad that Nicholas won't even talk to him, and... God. 

She's going to break up with him before she leaves. 

He doesn't realize he's panting until he feels Naomi's fingers wrap around his wrists, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Hey, look at me." She sounds farther away, but she's right there, and Noah slowly manages to gaze at her. "There you are. Can you breathe with me? In, out. In, out. Just like that."

He tries to match her breathing, really does, and it isn't until he feels her nails lightly scratching against the inside of his wrists that he feels himself come back to himself. His breathing is still a bit ragged, and he thinks his eyes are burning just a bit but he blinks whatever it is away. They sit in silence for a little while longer and Noah really focuses on the way her nails feel against his skin and how soothing it actually is, and her steady breathing. 

"...I'm guessing you already know what I want to talk about?" Naomi finally speaks after a few moments of bated silence.

Noah can't exactly read her, the look in her eyes something he's never seen from her before. Was it fear? He doesn't know exactly why she would be scared, but the voice in the back of his head is yelling at him because he knows what this is about. The nagging feeling, the deep pit in his tummy... this was it. He swallows away the lump building in the base of his throat, head nodding slowly. 

"You want to break up."

He says it so definitely, his stomach dropping because this is it. This is what she's doing. This is why she's been so weird the last few days because she didn't know how to do it and let him down easy. He doesn't bother looking at Naomi, instead moves his gaze on his lap because he can't bear to see her right now. See the pitying gaze she's probably giving him, her eyes indicating that yes, this is over.

"What?" 

He finally moves his gaze up to hers and pauses at how bewildered she looks, eyes wide with confusion, full lips dipping further into a frown. This almost angers him, almost, because how dare she look confused. His head tilts to the side, eyes searching her face.

"That's what this is about, right?"

"No, baby, that's..." She sighs, brows furrowing again as her head tilts to the side. "That's not even remotely close to what I wanted to talk about." 

Noah pauses again, mind racing at her words. What did she want to talk about then, if not this? He feels her hand slip to his cheek, turning his head back to face her.

"Noah," She sighs out, frowning again, "Why would you even think that?”

He doesn't know how to respond so he shrugs instead, staring at her. Naomi scoots closer to him, their legs now pressing together, and he focuses on her bare skin against his rather than her pleading eyes.

"Baby..." Another sigh follows her words. "Talk to me. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"I don't know." He eventually says, but doesn't dare to look up at her. "You've just been acting weird. Felt like I did something wrong, I don't know."

He rushes his words out, feeling his cheeks heat up at the confession. He was never good at expressing how he felt, how things bothered him. Never wanted to be a burden, too scared of the things that he may say ruining whatever he had going for him. In his time of knowing Mimi, loving Mimi, he's had to come to terms with the fact he just can't do that with her. She insists that he talk about his feelings, always telling him communication is one of her top priorities in any relationship she has - platonic and romantic. That infamous therapy talk of hers.

It was hard for Noah at first, and it still really fucking is, but he tries. He tries his hardest because he doesn't want to let her down.

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby." She's quick to respond, reaching out to place her hand on his thigh. He watches the way her fingers flex around his thigh, trying to calm down his heart that still seems to be racing. "You did nothing wrong, okay?"

"Then what's this about?" Noah doesn't stop the words from leaving him and he doesn't think twice before flicking his gaze up to hers, brown eyes round and wide. "Because when someone says they need to talk, it's usually nothing good."

He knows it's just the anxiety talking, whatever she's wanting to talk about eating at him because what the fuck could it be? If not that, then what else is there to talk about that's made her so... weird? 

"Do you remember Davis' birthday that year I couldn't go? I had to work."

He nods. "Yeah. Barely."

"Right." Naomi rolls her lips before speaking again. "Do you remember almost kissing Nick that night?"

As soon as she said it, the memory came back to him almost instantly. It was pretty shaky, the memory of Nicholas in front of him blurry, but he remembers that exact moment like it was fucking yesterday. They both drank absolutely way too much and the way Nicholas' cheeks were tinted red from the alcohol was... nice. So nice in fact Noah couldn't stop looking at him or his lips, and remembers wondering what it would be like to kiss his best friend. 

His heart pounds against his chest and he swallows down whatever lump was stuck in his throat, gazing back at Mimi.

"...Not really."

Lie. 

"Noah-"

"Okay, yes. I do. Sort of." He pauses to catch his breath, already feeling himself get worked up. "What's that have to do with anything? That was two years ago."

He hates the way she's staring at him, eyes narrowed but still gentle, as if she can see right through him, because she can. She's always been able to read him since the day they met. 

"I never knew that until you mentioned it at the bar."

His eyes widened at that. He got so drunk that night that he confessed to his girlfriend that he almost kissed their best friend? 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

"I'm sorry. It was forever ago, before we were together, it didn't mean-"

"Noah." She drops her hand from his face and holds it up, and Noah stops in the middle of his sentence, lips pressing together as he watches her. "It's okay. I don't care." 

"Oh." He feels himself sink back against the couch, relief filling his body.

Okay. Cool. She didn't care. That was good, right?

"Yeah." Naomi's voice trails and she stares off to the side, as if trying to find her next words. "Well, um. After you... mentioned that, you... Um."

Noah's eyes narrow at her. In the three years he has known Mimi, she wasn't one to stumble over her words. Usually that was his and Nicholas' jobs, stumbling through their sentences and Naomi helping them along the way.

"I... what?" His arms cross over his chest.

"You..." There was another pause and she finally looked back at him, lips pressed in a line. "We kissed."

His brows furrow. "...Okay?"

"All three of us. Kissed."

Oh.

Fuck.

Oh fuckfuckfuck.

“What?” He didn’t intend for his voice to come off so loud but he couldn’t help it, because what the actual fuck did she just say?

"We kissed."

Right. That's what he heard the first time yet it still doesn't sound fucking real. 

What does she mean they kissed? Why the fuck would that ever happen? How did it happen? Noah's gaze tears from Naomi to stare off to the side, too caught up in his own mind to even register that Naomi's gripping his hand, begging him to look at her. His chest feels heavy again, like at least ten tons of weights were just dropped on it.

We kissed. There's no way he actually kissed... no. That couldn't have happened. Noah's stomach turns. He feels hot, almost like he's going to be sick, because this didn't happen. It couldn't have happened. He would've remembered kissing his best friend... or watching his best friend kiss his girlfriend.

His face heats up at the thought.

"...Noah?"

He sucks down a deep breath to try and come back to himself,  finally looking back at Mimi. The weight on his chest lifted only slightly as their eyes met once again. He blinks.

"What?"

"Did it..." Naomi pauses and swipes her tongue over her bottom lip, and Noah can't help but follow it. "Did it mean anything?"

Noah tilts his head. "What did?"

"The almost kiss. Between you and Nicky.” 

He feels his whole-body freeze, stiffening at the implication of her words. Did it mean anything? What does it matter if it meant anything? It was years ago, back before Naomi, back before Noah knew shit about anything... back when it was just him and Nicholas. Back when the only things that meant a goddamn thing to him was his music and his best friend.

And sure, maybe there had been a time where it may have meant something to him, back when he was still learning himself, all awkward and all limbs. Back when things didn't seem to make much sense besides the fact he loved being around Nicholas, he loved his best friend. He had never really had that type of safety growing up, never felt secure, but when he was bouncing around with Nicholas, sleeping on his family's couch, in his bed, shooting the shit into the wee hours of the night with him, he remembers thinking he could live like this forever as long as it was with Nick. 

So yeah, maybe at the time it meant something. Or maybe it was the alcohol in his system that night that made him think that. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know. 

He swallows down the lump that was beginning to form in his throat and averts his gaze from Naomi, and he misses the look she gives him. He misses the way her face drops, lips pulling down into a frown, and instead wraps his arms around his middle, curling in on himself.

It didn't mean anything.  

It couldn't mean anything. 

"No." 

It sounded like a lie. His voice wavered and he looked anywhere but Naomi, couldn't dare look at her. He felt... guilty, in a way. That even though this almost kiss was years ago, his skin prickled at the thought of it happening now and how he didn't seem to be to put off by it. His heart pounded against his chest just at the mere thought of their lips brushing and he's frozen in his spot. It happened, just a few nights ago, and he's more upset at the fact he doesn't even fucking remember it.  

Why would he even want to kiss Nicholas, anyway? Naomi was his girlfriend, sitting right next to him. She should be the only person he wants to kiss, touch. 

"...Are you sure?" 

"Of course." He spits out, then flinches because he didn't mean to sound so harsh. He gives Naomi a quick glance before letting his eyes drop again. "Why would it? Nothing even happened, anyways." 

Noah knows why. He fucking knows and it makes his stomach turn, throat close up, and he could probably throw up at any fucking second, but he chooses to ignore it, because the truth is too much. It's not like he still doesn't feel the same for Naomi, that's not it at all. She's the first person he's ever loved this hard, ever considered to be serious with, to start a life with. He knows Naomi is his endgame and has always been. 

So has Nicholas, he briefly thinks, and has to physically shake his head to put the thoughts away. 

They sit in silence for a moment, not uncomfortable, but silence nonetheless and Noah's scared to look at Naomi. Scared to find that she sees through him and his stubbornness, sees through the lies that he spits out, because he doesn't want to think about what'll come after. He can't lose Naomi and the life that they've built together, will build together. He can't lose the stableness she's brought into his life, the love she gives him when sometimes he thinks he doesn't deserve it. He can't lose his best friend - both of them. 

So, he'll continue to lie, continue to tell himself and everyone around him that it meant nothing at the time and definitely doesn't mean a goddamn thing now. 

"Noah." Naomi's voice is so soft, so gentle, he has to squeeze his eyes shut to will away the burning that it brings. "Baby, look at me." 

Her hand is on his arm now and he feels her scoot closer to him, but she's timid, keeping her space. She knows how he gets when he starts to shut down, build the walls back up around himself when things get too complicated because he hates when it starts to feel like that. He's comfortable for the first time in his life and he can't let that slip through his fingers. 

He takes a deep breath, then two, then three, and finally opens his eyes to find Naomi staring at him, brows furrowed in concern. Her hand doesn't leave him, and he relaxes ever so slightly at the feel of her thumb rubbing into his skin, trying to calm him down. Usually, she'd do the thing where she rubs at his wrists, gently scratching at the skin to bring him back down to earth like she had done earlier, but she can't with the way he has his arms wrapped around him, hands tucked away at his sides. 

"Me and Nicholas had an almost kiss, too. I told you that night but I’m assuming you don’t remember." She starts slowly and her hand moves up his arm to rest against the back of his neck, fingers digging into his skin gently to rub out any tension there. It was helping. "We didn't, though, because of you." 

"Me?" He perks up at that, but for some reason his chest aches, heart pounding again.  

Why did they stop because of him? Why was he the reason for their kiss ending before it ever even started? The guilt comes back, settling in the pit of his stomach. 

Naomi nods. "It didn't feel right... with how I felt about you and...." 

She trails off and he can tell she's choosing her words carefully, like she was leaving out something, but he doesn't say anything. Noah swallowed thickly, eyes scanning her face. 

"I..." He watches her eyes flutter shut and watches her throat bob as she swallows down whatever fear may linger there. "I wanted to kiss him, but I didn't. Well - he didn't. He asked me what about Noah? and we stopped." 

"That doesn't make any sense." The words leave him before he can even think about it. "You shouldn't have stopped because of me." 

"Yes, we should have." Her answer was quick, and Noah can only stare at her. "We should have because it wasn't fair to you." 

"Why?" He doesn't get it, or... maybe he does, but he refuses to believe what's so obviously in front of him.  

"Jesus." Naomi breathes out, a quiet laugh following. "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be." 

Her hand drops from his neck to rest back against his arm, and he watches the movements, eyes following her fingers drawing circles, tracing the artwork that was etched across his skin.  

"It wasn't fair to you because of how we felt about you." She starts off slowly, eyes dropping down to her hand. "We both cared about you so much then, and still do. At the time it was more confusing, but I think," She takes a deep breath before her eyes find him again. "I think it didn't feel right to do that with you not there. It didn't feel complete." 

Complete. They didn't feel complete without him there and that has his stomach turning, as if a thousand butterflies were let off inside of him but he can't seem to be happy about it. It can't mean what he's thinking. He refuses to even believe that because that would mean what he's feeling is true and that's impossible. 

How the hell can you love two people at once and it's fine? It sounds fucking selfish. 

"I don't..." His words trail off and he has to look away from her, her gaze becoming far too much.  

Both of her hands slide back up his neck this time, turning him back to her but he shuts his eyes before their gazes even meet. He's being stubborn, he fucking knows, but it's too much. He can't do this. Not now. 

"Noah..." 

"What?" He tries to make it sound harsh, but it instead comes out weak, voice cracking at the end. Noah opens his eyes, and the look Naomi is giving him is borderline painful, and he has to swallow down the lump in his throat once again. 

"I... liked it when we kissed the other night." She finally starts again, voice barely above a whisper. Noah averts his gaze, eyes dropping to his lap, but her hand doesn't leave his neck. "...And I think you liked it, too." 

His stomach is full of twists and turns, a voice in the back of his head telling him that she's right. Even if doesn't remember it he knows he liked it, more than he should have, and his eyes squeeze shut to try and wrack his brain around some type of memory to remind him of how it felt, but nothing comes. 

He wishes he could remember, but he can’t. So, he says the first thing that comes to his mind. 

"I... I don't know if I liked it." Lie, but he pushes through it.  

"...And that's okay. If you don't know." Naomi speaks so carefully, thumbs brushing against his skin as her eyes scan his face. "You don't need to know right now. I just needed you to know." 

"And what is it I need to know?" 

"That I liked kissing Nicholas. Far more than I probably should." She pauses, sucking in a deep breath. "And that I think you liked it too, but you don't know how to feel about it, and that's completely okay."  

They keep their eyes on each other for a moment or two, the silence slowly eating away at him. How could she know that? There's no way she could know that. Hell, Noah barely even knows that. He wishes he could fucking remember what it was like, his lips against Nicholas'. The way it felt when their lips finally met. The way it made him feel in that moment, after waiting for it for so long. He can feel goosebumps rise across his skin just at the mere thought of their lips brushing and his face flushes out of embarrassment.  

Naomi doesn't comment on it. 

"So," He clears his throat, eyes dropping again. "What does this mean?"  

"Nothing. If that's what you want."

Noah's silent, and he doesn't move his gaze from his lap. 

"I love you." Naomi presses, and she's leaning forward, lips ghosting over his cheek. "That hasn't changed and will never, ever change. I just... needed to be honest with you." There's another pause in her words and she pulls back, eyes scanning him again. "And I want you to be honest with yourself. It doesn't need to be right now, but whenever you're ready. Okay?" 

He swallows thickly again, and he thinks his eyes are burning but he refuses to even acknowledge that. His stomach twists and turns at the implication of her words and he so desperately wishes he could do that, for her, for himself, but he can't. Not yet at least. 

So instead, he nods, quietly saying, "I love you."

He hopes that's enough for her, for now, and he thinks it is when she leans in to press their lips together. It's different from the others they've shared, something else is behind it and he can't quite place it, but it only has him pressing harder against her, trying to deepen it. He loves her, with his entire being, and hopes one day he can be honest with her in the way she's wanting. 

Maybe. 

"Okay." She says once she pulls back, taking a deep breath to come back to herself. Her hands slide up and down his neck and she gives him a small smile, and this time it reaches her eyes. "Wanna help me finish packing?"

Noah nods, finally unwrapping his arms from around himself. "Yeah... I wanna help."

Her smile grows wider at that, and he actually returns it before letting her pull him up and off the couch, dragging him towards his room to finish packing for her flight tomorrow morning. He does his best to ignore the voice in his head screaming at him when they pass Nicholas' room, especially when he catches himself staring at the shut door longingly.

… 

He's pissed.

No - he's downright fucking livid.

He'd never seen such heartache in Naomi's face when he told her that Nicholas wouldn't be coming to the airport to drop her off, even though he so clearly was home, holed up in his room. She acted as if it didn't bother her, only for a second, before the tears fell. Noah swore he saw red, never once in his life being so... disappointed in his best friend. He hated anyone that made Naomi upset, and knowing it was Nicholas at the other end of this anger was something Noah's never experienced.

He kept it together for her, even when he kissed her goodbye. Especially when she asked Noah to let Nicholas know that she said goodbye, and that she'll text when she lands. The drive home was excruciating and he swears he broke several traffic laws because he couldn't stop thinking about it. What the fuck was Nicholas' problem? 

If he had been so bothered by what happened then he should say that. Noah can take the rejection - it hurts less because he doesn't exactly remember it. At least he thinks it does, but maybe this anger he's feeling is overshadowing the ache in his chest that's yearning to remember what it was like to have Nicholas' lips on his. He barely thinks about it, actually, so consumed by the anger and disappointment rising in him, he slams the front door shut. 

No one else is home. Just him, Nicholas, and an empty house. His feet move before he can even think about it, taking him up the stairs and down the hall, second door on the left. Noah swings open Nicholas' door, the latter looking up from his desk, sketch pad placed in front of him. His brows furrow at the sight of Noah, confusion written all over his face and that somewhat pisses off Noah even more. 

"What the hell is your problem?"

This surprises Nicholas, eyes widening. "What?" 

"Cut the fucking bullshit." This has Nicholas' pressing his lips together and Noah steps into his room, shutting the door behind him. He points over at Nicholas, eyes narrowing. "Mind telling me what's been up your ass this last week?"

Nicholas pauses. "Nothing."

"Sure." Noah scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. "You seriously suck at lying, dude. You always have." 

"It's nothing, Noah." Nicholas grumbles, low and annoyed, and he's swinging his chair back around to his desk, staring down at the flash sheet before him. "Just been busy."

"With what?" Noah knows he should keep it down, knowing the other guys are just in the living room, but he can't find it in himself to even care. "We fucking live together, man. I know when you're busy."

Silence.

"She was expecting you to be there, you know." Noah grits out, voice shaking. "Do you know how hard it was to watch her cry? Knowing it was over you? Really fucking hard, Nick. She wanted you there." 

Nicholas doesn't say anything to this, but Noah notices the moment his shoulders tense, his actions pausing, before picking his pen up again. 

"Oh, so you’re just not gonna say anything? How fucking mature.”

"I don't know what you want from me, Noah." Nicholas sounds defeated as he whips around in his chair, shoulders slumping forward as sad, gray eyes meet Noah's brown ones.

"I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on." He's angry, maybe irrationally so, but he doesn't care. He's pissed, hands shaking at his sides as his eyes narrowed down on his best friend.

"Nothing's going on."

"Stop lying to me!" Noah's voice booms throughout the bedroom and both boys pause, eyes widening.

Noah doesn't yell. In a song, sure, but never ever in conversation. And never at Nicholas. In the years he's known the boy, he can't really remember any argument that they've had that led to a raised voice. It was never like that with him, but maybe things have changed. A lot of things have changed.

He sucks in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut as he tries to calm himself down. Naomi's voice fills his mind, softly chanting in and out, in and out, in and out. He feels like he's spiraling, the anger and confusion coming to a halt inside his body and not sure how to release. He hates feeling like this, he hates being angry at Nicholas, but he can't help it. He's lying. Noah knows he's lying and he doesn't have a damn clue on why he keeps it up.

"Stop lying." He says softer now, voice wavering. "You don't need to lie."

"Yes, I do."

"If..." In, out. In, out. In, out. "If this is about the stupid fucking kiss from the other night, it's not that big of a deal."

His stomach drops the second those words leave his mouth, and he's sure Nicholas has the same feeling with the way his eyes are widening, staring at him in disbelief. 

"I remember - well, Mimi told me. But I know." He pauses. "That's it, isn't it? The kiss? You're being fucking weird because of a stupid kiss?"

It wasn't stupid. Even if he doesn't remember it he knows it wasn't, but he can't seem to stop the words tumbling from his mouth.

"Yes." Nicholas finally grits out, eyes narrowing at him. "It is about the stupid kiss."

"I knew it." Noah laughs and it's such a sad fucking sound, because he doesn't feel any better hearing those words from Nicholas. Actually, he somehow feels worse. "I fucking knew it."

Nicholas laughs now, a crazy sound, and he runs a wild hand through his hair before his arms flail out around him.

"What the fuck do you want to say then, Noah? I mean, since you already know everything." It's Nicholas' turn to narrow his gaze, anger brewing behind his eyes. “I don’t know what you fucking want from me if you already know so much. What’s there to even talk about, huh?”

"I just want you to be honest with me," Noah tries to keep his voice level, but there is another waver towards the end, and he has to curl his hands into fists and squeeze. 

In and out, in and out, in and out. 

"Honest? You want honesty?" With another laugh that sounds anything but humorful, Nicholas rises from his chair and takes a step closer to Noah. "Do you know how fucking hard it is to watch the person you love be with someone else? And then have them kiss you?”

There it is. 

He thinks deep down he knew all along that Nicholas loved Naomi. The more he thought about it - and he's thought about it a lot these last 24 hours - the more it made sense. Noah remembers the longing glances shared between the two, remembers the tension whenever they first met. Maybe he tried convincing himself it was nothing just to justify his own feelings, but it was always clear as day.

Nicholas fucking loved her. His hands shake at the thought and he squeezes them into fists again, fingernails digging into the skin of his palm. It hurts to hear out loud even though he knew. He fucking knew.

But he thinks it hurts more knowing that it's just her, and not him.

"Naomi told me." He manages to get out, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "She told me about the first time you tattooed her. How you guys didn't..." He can't say it fully, taking a deep breath before continuing, "because of me. You spared my feelings because you'd rather, I don't fucking know, deprive yourself of happiness because you didn't want to hurt my feelings?"

Nicholas doesn't say anything again, just stares at him with his lips pressed together and for some reason that angers Noah even more.

"Did you think I couldn't handle it? Her rejection? I could have." He takes a step closer to Nicholas, the other boy watching him carefully. "I would have if it meant that you two were happy. That's all I ever fucking cared about."

They're toe to toe now, not touching just yet but almost there. Nicholas' eyes soften. 

"Noah, that's all I cared about, too. That's why I couldn't do it, because of you and-"

"Because of me! That's all I keep hearing. Me, me, me. You didn't know how I'd feel. You didn't know how I'd react. Not once did you even think of yourself, either of you, because for some reason you both are so worried about how I'd feel." The words fall from his lips without much thought and a humorless laugh slips from him, arms moving wildly at his sides. "And now look, you resent me! Probably Mimi, too, because of a choice you made."

Was it harsh? Maybe, but Noah was done letting this shit build up inside of him. If Nicholas wanted to ignore him then goddammit, he was going to get out everything he's been wanting to say for the last two days. 

Nicholas looks at Noah now as if he's just grown two heads and for some reason that just makes him angrier. Why is he confused? He doesn't get to act confused, he's the one that's been ignoring them, resenting them, for a choice he made. 

"I don't resent you."

"Could've fooled me.”

"I don't-" Nicholas pauses, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't fucking resent you. I don't resent Mimi, either. If anything I resent myself for being fucking stupid."

It's Noah's turn to be confused, eyes narrowing down at his best friend.

"What?"

Nicholas opens his mouth to speak but closes it almost instantly. He doesn't say anything, just stares at him with wide eyes and Noah's not sure what to do next. He doesn't understand any of this. If Nicholas didn't resent them, then why the hell was he acting like he did? 

"I..." Noah's stomach twists at the sight of tears welling in Nicholas' eyes and he forces himself to look away, anywhere and everywhere but his face. "How can you not fucking see, Noah?"

"See what?"

They're so close. So fucking close and Noah finally gains enough courage to look at Nicholas again, and immediately wishes he hadn't. He watches the first tear fall, stream down Nicholas' cheeks, and he feels like someone just stabbed him in the fucking chest repeatedly. Why was he crying? What was there to cry over? 

"How I feel about Naomi. How I feel about you." Nicholas sounds so small, voice barely above a whisper.

"...About me?" Noah asks dumbly, but his mind is working double time already, heart thudding loudly against his chest.

There's no way Nicholas is admitting to this. Admitting to something that Noah told himself years ago would never fucking happen - could never fucking happen. That's why he shoved it so far back into his mind, his heart, because he could never allow something like that to come between him and his best friend. 

"Noah, I..." The words are on the tip of his tongue and Noah knows what he's going to say. He can feel it in his fucking bones and he feels his hands shaking at his sides again, but this time with anticipation. "I..."

"Nicky." Noah all but whines out, voice soft and eyes pleading. 

Nicholas' mouth shuts and Noah sees the exact moment his gaze falls to his lips before moving back up. His ears ring and his skin heats up, standing there while Nicholas reaches for him, tattooed hands cupping his face. He watches the boy lean in and barely even registers the fact that Nicholas' lips are against his before the other is pulling back, eyes wide. 

"Shit, Noah - I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm so fucking sorry-"

Noah's not paying attention to his words, no, his ears are still ringing so fucking loud that Nicholas sounds muffled right now. He's too busy thinking about the way Nicholas' hands are still cradling his face and how gentle he was with him, their lips pressing together in what he thinks was the gentlest kiss of his life. Well, sort of a kiss. He didn't even kiss back, didn't think to kiss back because his brain short circuited. His lips were soft, not nearly as soft as Mimi's, but still softer than he imagined.

"- I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have done that without asking, I'm fucking sorry-"

Noah reaches up to circle his fingers around Nicholas' wrists when he feels the other trying to slip away. He keeps his hands there, against his face, and stares at him for another beat before surging forward. Their lips crash together with such force that they both stumble and Noah's hands drop from Nicholas' wrists to rest against his hips, keeping him steady. He thinks he hears Nicholas make some kind of noise, feels the vibration against his lips, but that damn ringing in his ears won't stop.

This kiss isn't anything like the one they just shared. Far from it. It's messy, sloppy, and all teeth, but it has Noah's skin buzzing in what he can only assume is excitement and fucking relief because this is what he's always imagined it to be like. Years of pent up frustration, long years of fucking yearning has led to this and Noah can't help but whine against Nicholas' lips. It's like they fit perfectly together, like Nicholas was the missing puzzle piece in this story. It reminds him of kissing Naomi, and how much he loves it, and how perfect and right it always feels. 

Naomi.

It's like his brain was on autopilot and just finally turned back out, screeching to a halt as the realization finally dawned on him. 

He can already feel the panic settling into his bones, rising until it lodges in the base of his throat and he all but pushes Nicholas away from him as if he's been burned. He feels like he's going to throw up at any second and he wishes that his ears would stop fucking ringing so loud, because all he can see is Nicholas' mouth moving but no words are coming out. The other takes a step towards him, arms reaching out but Noah shakes his head quickly. He takes two large steps back.

"Noah?”

It's muffled and barely sounds like Nicholas. Noah shakes his head again and takes another step back, yelping when he comes in contact with the door. He has to get out of here.

"I'm sorry." He gets out shakily before he reaches for the door handle and throws the door open, rushing for the stairs.

FuckFuckFuck.

He needs to get out of there. He needs to leave and go somewhere so fucking far away because he cannot stay here. No, he can't. The last glimpse he had of Nicholas crosses his mind, the absolute heartbreak written all over his face, and his chest hurts. It hurts so fucking bad and he can't breathe and-

"Woah. Slow down there, man."

Jolly chuckles and rests his hands on Noah's shoulders, but the younger boy doesn't know what's funny. He looks at him, gets out that he's headed somewhere, anywhere but here, and sees the moment confusion and then concern crosses Jolly's features. He doesn't let him question it, already ripping himself from his friends grasp. He grabs his keys that are still sitting on the counter where he left them, pats his pockets to make sure he still has his phone, and bolts out the door without another thought.

...

Her apartment feels foreign to her. She's tried so hard to make it feel like home, and it did at one point, but now it just... feels like a space she lives in. Richmond feels the same. This was the place where she grew up, where she became who she is today, and yet she's never felt so disconnected from it. It isn't home. Not anymore.

Home is almost three thousand miles away.

Naomi's eyes glance over at her phone next to her on the floor and sighs when no new notifications show up. She's only been home for about an hour, texting both Noah and Nicholas the second she walked through the door. She wasn't too surprised that Nicholas didn't respond, seeing as he didn't even bother telling her goodbye this morning, but Noah's silence comes as a shock. Usually she's welcomed with a text right when she lands from the boy, asking if she's landed yet and that he misses her.

There was nothing.

She knew how angry he was when Nicholas didn't meet them at the car this morning, ignoring both their texts. She knew he tried his best to hide how he was feeling, especially when she didn't do a good job hiding how she did. She felt guilty, in a way, crying over someone else when Noah was right there. He was so understanding, though, and had been ever since she told him how she felt about the kiss and Nicholas.

Naomi knew deep down it was because he understood how she felt, but was too stubborn to figure it out for himself and admit to it. 

She sighs again as she tosses another shirt from her suitcase into the dirty clothes pile she's made in the middle of her room, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She doesn't want to do laundry. She wishes she could snap her fingers and everything would be cleaned and put neatly in its place, it'd save her a lot of time. 

She really tries hard to not dwell on it, but her hand is moving for her phone before she can stop herself. She'll just text him again, make sure he's alright and didn't do something stupid like confront Nicholas. She never gets to ask, though, the incoming phone call screen popping up on her phone. Her breath hitches when she realizes it was Nicholas calling her.

She lets it ring three times before answering.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry for being a stubborn fucking asshole and not saying goodbye. I'm sorry for ignoring you like a child." Nicholas' voice comes out quickly, words rushing together that she barely even catches what he's saying.

"Nicky, slow down-"

"I'm sorry for running away and not being brave enough to even talk about what happened-"

"Nicholas."

"- and I'm sorry for not telling you I loved you sooner. I should've done that a long time ago, but I'm a coward." Nicholas pauses to suck in a deep breath, probably to try and center himself. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Naomi. I'd take it all back if I could."

"...What?" It's stupid to say but it's all she could manage out.

“… I love you."

Mimi is stunned into silence, mouth agape as her brain tries to process whatever the fuck Nicholas just told her. Their first conversation in almost a week and this is not what she was expecting. Well, maybe the apology, but not the confession. 

I'm sorry for not telling you I loved you sooner. 

It should feel good. It should feel really good to hear those words, to know that he loves her, because she loves him, but it doesn't. It feels far from it. Nicholas sounds so broken and defeated on the other end that she knows that this didn't come from a place of happy realization. 

Something happened. With Noah, no doubt. Something stirs in the pit of her stomach.

"Noah talked to you."

"He did." 

She stays silent, the confirmation swirling around her mind. Noah talked to him. 

"He left." Nicholas' voice shakes and she can already see his face, crumbling as the tears well in his eyes. She doesn't bother stopping her own, the pit in her stomach now feeling like impending fucking doom. His sniffle on the other end breaks her heart. "He barged into my room, yelled at me. Deserved. I was being an ass, I’m sorry. And then I kissed him. He asked me to be honest and I fucking kissed him because it was easier doing that than saying it."

"Nicky..."

"He just stood there and I knew I fucked up, I knew it, but then... fuck, then he kissed me." He sniffles again, followed by a pitiful whine. "Then he left. Pulled away from me like I was some sort of fucking plague and ran off. He's been gone for like two hours. I don't..." A shaky sigh follows his words and her heart feels like it's about to fall out of her chest. "He’s gone. I don't know where he is, Mimi."

Fuck.

[nocasdatsgay]

The Rite of Spring: a spring time affairs fic

Day 6 @polyacotarweek Celebrations

Pairing: Tamlin/OC/Lucien/Elain | Rating: E | Word Count 3883

Masterlist | Poly Week Masterpost| Read here on A03

Warnings: Smut… ritual sex.

Summary: A Calanmai fic. Tamlin and Flora complete the rite, going to find their loves once it is done and the next day help with cleaning up the festivities.

AN: I didn’t proofread this. I also didn’t cut out the bad smut like I said I was LOL

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @ysmtttty

Flora entered her chambers late in the afternoon, covered in dirt and sweat from planting. She should have been in her rooms after the massive dinner party hours before. But stubborn as ever, she went straight to her garden to plant a few more strawberry plants in the first row she designated for her experiments. Her husband was already there in their rooms, being painted by Lucien. Tamlin’s arms were covered and dry, Lucien was working on his torso. 

“About time you showed up,” Lucien paused, eye clicking away as he looked her over quickly. “Where have you been?”

“Planting, I told you both that this morning.” Flora was already undoing the buttons of her shirt to prepare for a bath. “Where’s Elain?” 

At that Lucien chuckled and went back to painting Tamlin’s back. “Following behind Baxton to make sure people listen to him.” 

Flora nodded. Baxton was the youngest advisor they’ve had in centuries, being only 57 years old. He was kind and smart. The four of them trusted him fully but courtiers had a hard time taking him seriously due to his age. Elain and Flora both made an effort to be in earshot during events like this. Just in case. 

“Go bath love,” Tamlin said softly. “It’s almost nightfall.” 

Flora did just that, leaving behind a trail of clothes to the bathing chambers. She always managed to get so filthy when planting no matter how hard she tried not to. Once she was clean, she came out wrapped in a towel. Tamlin was sitting on a stool letting the paint dry and Lucien was putting the paints away. 

“Where is my dress? I didn’t see it in the armoire.” 

“Pity,” Lucien replied. “You’ll just have to go naked. I have extra paint.”

Flora made a face as he grinned at her. She looked to her husband.

“It’s on the bed, Flora.” 

She looked back and she did indeed walk right past it. 

“Sorry,” was all she could say as she went to the side of the bed where it laid. 

They used the same dress each year- Tamlin had a spell put on it to keep it from tearing. A miracle really with those claws of his. White satin gown with lace sleeves and a heart shaped corset bodice with a skirt that flowed outward at the hips. As soon as she dropped the towel and slipped it on, Elain came through the door. 

“Everything is ready,” she stood on her toes to kiss her mate then walked over to Tamlin to do the same. “Baxton will have the fires lit soon.” 

Flora glanced at the window. Night was indeed approaching. She listened and could hear the drumming faintly. Immediately her nerves spiked. Elain must have sensed it; she came over to her and brushed her hands lovingly through loose strands. 

“You look lovely,” she whispered. 

“So do you.” And gods did she ever. Her sage cotton dress matched Lucien’s vest. 

“You’ll do fine,” Elain pressed a soft kiss to her lips and pulled back. “You always do.” 

Flora could only nod, swallowing her worries down. She could feel Tamlin watching her. She schooled her features and smiled. 

“I’m ready when you are.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Rite always made her nervous. She knew what she was getting into when she married the High Lord of Spring. The magic chose; not him. Even if he swore he would always choose her. There was always that doubt in her mind. She always thought back to before- before when she would wait with all the other females and he would never choose her. 

It didn’t bother her then. She was just a Spring nobody. 

But now she was his wife. 

The same thoughts that plagued her every single time over the last decade came rushing into her mind with a vengeance. What if he chose a female from the crowd? What if he chose Elain? She looked over to see her two loves standing side by side, Lucien’s hand in Elain’s as they waited. Elain being chosen would be fine. If it had to be anyone else, it would be her. 

Flora turned her attention ahead to the clearing. The glittering ghost white stag wandered in ahead. Tamlin pulled his bow and Flora inhaled sharply, holding her breath. The arrow struck true, the stag bursting into a thousand pieces, each glittering one halting in the air and then flying right into Tamlin. When he dropped the bow and arrows, he was no longer himself. He turned, green eyes glowing in the dark. And they were staring at her. 

Then the magic, invisible for the maiden, took hold of her. She could feel it crawl up from the ground, on her legs, torso, and finally wash over her head. She was no longer herself either. Her vision went hazy, only focused on Tamlin who was walking towards her. She froze in place as he approached, unable to move even if she wanted to. Then he picked her up, his arms under her legs and across her back to hold her close and carried her into the cave. 

Her heart beat in time with the drums. They echoed heavily against the cave walls as well. Before, fae would be in the caves watching- engaging. Tamlin changed the rules when they married. It was just them in the massive cave, the plants on the walls glowing and casting a green glow within the room. 

In the middle was the white smooth stone, ancient like the cave itself. A long time ago, they said the maiden was slain on that stone. The sacrifice being her life instead of her maidenhood. Even that was a thing of the past now. The stone wasn’t cold when she laid on it. Mere contact with it had her arching up and squeezing her thighs together. 

She sat up and stared at her husband. His eyes glowed the plants- the shadows from them giving him a menacing look about him. She watched him rip off his pants. His claws out and proud, making her breath quicken. Her legs fell open as he crawled onto the stone and his claws scraped the surface. 

The paint all over his body, even past what she walked in on earlier, was spelled to not move until the magic came. Now it was smearing as he crawled over her. The dress bunched at her thighs from when she spread her legs open was now being pushed up by a clawed hand. It was off in moments, her helping him pull it up and over her head. 

Both of them now nude, the drums seem to be going faster in her mind. They demanded he take her and her hands were on him, trying to pull her to him. But Tamlin could be cruel even with the magic. He held himself back, dragging a crawl gently down her chest along the valley between her breasts. 

Flora’s whimper echoed through the cave. “Please,” she whispered.

Her body was getting too warm, the magic too demanding. She rolled her hips and his eyes flashed in the dark. One of his hands planted by his head, another gripped her hip to pin her down. She could feel those claws digging into her flesh and her whimper came a moan. 

Tamlin muttered in an ancient language, one coming from the magic. Flora answered in the same language. She didn’t know what was said, only it felt like the magic was talking to itself. Like two lost lovers reunited for a short time. 

Then he leaned in and kissed her. 

Heat washed over her and her hand went into his hair. The other wrapped around his back, smearing paint as she tried to hold him closer. His hips pressed against hers. She spread her legs wider, letting him settle between them so he could rut his length against her. He stilled long enough to reach down and line himself to her. 

Her back arched when he pushed into her, magic humming loudly and the drums beating louder. The glow of the walls pulsed in time with his thrusts and all Flora could do was hold onto him tight. That ancient language fell from her lips again, chanting; begging. His horns grew from his head and her hand brushed against them. 

Each stroke inside her had her singing. Her moans and his grunts echoed against the walls, nearly drowned out by the drums. She could feel herself peaking, and she shouted words she didn’t know. Tamlin replied back in kind, and she shattered. They fell apart at the same time, the magic exploding out from them shaking the earth below them. Glowing flowers bloomed, lighting up the cave. 

Flora came back to herself, panting. She watched Tamlin’s horns retract as he caught his breath, eyes no longer glowing. The Rite was complete. Though magic lingered in her the first wave always made her so tired. 

“Let's go home,” she whispered, her voice her own again. 

He didn’t reply. He kissed her cheek and moved off of her. The residual magic wouldn’t surge for a couple of minutes. Which meant she didn’t have the energy to move. Tamlin knew, he always did. He helped her sit up and wrapped her stained dress around her body. She sighed when he picked her up, holding her close to his warm body. She tucked herself in against him and rested as he carried her out of the cave and to the room their loves would be waiting in for them. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Tamlin carried his wife out of the cave, wrapped in her dress. He ignored those engaging in their own depravity thanks to the magic. The power, albeit lessened, was still humming in his veins and making him itch. He winnowed to the manor and into the hall where he knew he’d find Lucien and Elain. It was always the same room; even before Flora, before Elain, even before Amarantha. The sacred bedroom Lucien jokingly called it. 

Flora stirred in his arms and did not question where they were going. She only motioned to be put down when they reached the door. There were lewd noises coming from within, making her smirk at him as he opened the door. The full moon cast a glow on the bed, illuminating Elain where she straddled Lucien. Lucien glowed but his glow was from within, brightening the rest of the dark room. Elain stilled and looked back at them. 

“Don’t mind us,” Flora dropped the dress around her, letting it fall to the floor. “We can watch.”

Elain grinned but didn’t speak, moving off her mate who cursed as his cock slipped out of her. She crawled up the bed, staring at Flora, sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed with her arms pushing out her breasts. Tamlin turned away from them, as Flora went up to kiss her. He was staring at Lucien. 

His claws came out while he watched Lucien scoot up the bed to lean on the headboard. His glow lessened but his hardness had not gone away, curling up against his stomach while he stared back at Tamlin. Lucien watched Tamlin shuck off his pants, Lucien stroking himself idly as Tamlin crawled over him. 

Unlike Flora, Tamlin was rough, grabbing Lucien’s hair with his clawed hand and pulling him against his lips. Lucien groaned while Tamlin kissed and bit his lips. Residual magic surged him. He needed Lucien right then. He pulled back slightly, still holding Lucien by the hair. 

“Did your mate prep you?” He asked in a whisper, his breath dancing along Lucien’s mouth. 

A breathy moan behind them, Elain, replied for him. “Yes, Tam.”  

Tamlin grinned and leaned in, tilting his head to lick his tongue up Lucien’s neck. His legs fell open and Tamlin moved between them. Lucien reached down to stroke Tamlin, oil coating his length. Tamlin had to resist the urge to bit him, instead bringing his mouth back up to Lucien’s and he let Lucien guide him in. Tamlin could have collapsed onto him from the way his body relaxed as he pushed in up to the hilt. 

He let Lucien adjust but only for a moment. The magic in him surged with a vengeance and he started thrusting into him. Tamlin’s claws came out; he dug them into the duvet below them and held himself up. The slap of his hips against Lucien’s and the moans he was making drowned out any noises from his wife and Elain. Lucien reached between them to stroke himself. This time Tamlin did bite his neck; he sank his teeth in as he came, Lucien falling behind him with a loud groan. 

They caught their breath and they could hear their wives’ pretty moans behind them. Tamlin kissed the bite mark on Lucien; a small apology even though he knew the male loved it. He moved off Lucien and a moment later, Elain was on him. Her hair had been pulled out of it’s braid- by Flora no doubt. Her scent of Jasmine was covered with the honey scent of Flora. He grew hard again from just the smell of them together. She gave him a soft kiss and he groaned, tasting Flora on her as well. He pulled at her hips Elain took that as a signal to move up. 

She crawled over his face, balancing herself with the headboard. He stared up at the glistening wetness between her thighs before he wrapped his arms around them and pulled her down on top of him. His favorite thing about Elain was how quiet she could be until one got her in bed. Lucien had to soundproof all the bedrooms they shared because Elain was a screamer. Each suck and flick of his tongue had her singing, her voice inching higher the closer she got close to the edge. 

Tamlin heard his wife yell out. He chuckled while his lips sucked on Elain’s clit knowing Lucien used Elain’s pretty moans to his advantage. Flora was very susceptible to noise. Elain screamed too, pulling his hair as she came on his tongue. The second she relaxed, he flipped her over and crawled over her to settle between her legs. He slipped into her with ease and the magic underneath his skin calmed. Elain brushed her fingers into his hair looking up contently with her big doe eyes. He didn’t look to see what Lucien and Flora were doing. 

Elain finally wiggled her hips, impatiently. Tamlin was more gentle with her than he was with her mate. Partly because the magic wasn’t as intense anymore. He rocked into her and kept his mouth on her breasts to make her mewl under him. This pleasure was softer; the peak of it built slow in his spine, bubbling over with a burst of warmth that spread through him. Elain’s was softer too, a loud and content sigh as she came arching up against him. He kissed her softly before moving off her. 

The magic was almost out of all of them. He could feel it. He laid on his back and looked beside him. His beautiful wife straddled Lucien, chasing her pleasure. Tamlin reached between them, making eye contact with her as he rubbed his fingers against her. She came looking at him and he heard Lucien groan beside him following right behind her. They both stilled and caught their breath. 

“Tam,” he looked up at Lucien. He was still glowing, those Day Court powers still simmering under his skin. “One more, yeah?”

Tamlin only replied with a nod. 

An hour later and the four of them laid out on the large bed, spent and covered in sweat and fluids. Flora was asleep between him and Elain. Lucien had half his body draped over Elain while she ran her fingers through his hair over and over. Tamlin sat up for a moment, using his magic to dissipate most of the filth on all four of them. Dawn would come in a few hours and they could clean themselves then. Until then he was content to lay with his loves and rest. 

When Tamlin woke the next morning, it was bright daylight shining through the window and Lucien was the only one in bed with him. He knew Lucien was awake by his breathing. 

“Where are our wives?” Tamlin’s voice was rough, like the sound of tumbling stones. 

Lucien grumbled something in response. Tamlin sat up in the bed, a blanket falling away from him. He didn’t remember getting a blanket. Lucien was half covered by a throw blanket as well. The girls must have covered them sometime this morning. The morning after Calanmai was always slightly unpleasant. Not as much as it used to be, with three others to help run the magic out with. 

“We should get up and bathe. We’re filthy.” Tamlin nudged Lucien. 

“Gods Tam, alright.” He groaned as he sat up, squinting at Tamlin. “What time is it?”

“Near noon from the looks of it.” 

Lucien grunted in response. They both moved off the bed. Tamlin went to the bathing room and he could hear Lucien using magic to remove the bedding. They would wash and repair the bedding themselves later. There were just some things he wouldn’t subject his servants to, and the bedding after Calanmai was one of them. 

Tamlin ran the hot water and the two of them ended up sitting in the large bath longer than needed. Part of it was soaking helped the pleasant ache Tamlin had from last night. The other part was Lucien couldn’t keep his hands to himself and they had to rerun the bath. 

Once dressed, Tamlin pulled out two vials of a tonic he kept in the pocket realm for the day after Calanmai. He gave one to Lucien and downed his own in one swing. They both then set off to find food and see what work was needed to clean up after the celebrations. After lunch (he had been right about the time) they went to help with the clean up. 

It was only with the last few pyres left, that he left to find his wife. Of course she was in the gardens. He watched her from afar for a moment. She had her hair up in a high ponytail, pink ribbon tied into a bow on it. She was wearing trousers and a linen white tunic. Her face lit up when she spotted him, an action that never ceased to make his stomach flip on itself. She ran over to him. 

“Tam, you’re awake. Did you sleep okay? How do you feel?” She came up and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Is Lucien up as well?” 

“I’m better with a tonic in me. Lucien’s up and helping dismantle the pyres. I came to see what you were up to.” 

“Planting.” She pointed to the plot where she ran over from. 

“You still haven’t told me what you’re planting.” 

“Oh.”

Flora sometimes got in her own head, forgetting what she had and had not said allowed. A quirk Tamlin didn’t mind as long as she wasn’t holding in her feelings. Which she did often. 

She continued. “Well, I’m experimenting to see what the difference is between planting before the rite and after. If there is an extra boost in the magic from, well you know.” She flushed and Tamlin laughed loudly. “Stop it. It doesn’t matter, I’m planting- Tam stop laughing at me.”

“I’m sorry, Flora but,” he wiped at his eyes to remove the tears from laughing so hard. “Everyone in Prythian knows what we do in that cave.” 

She pouted at him and shot him a glare. “Since you’re just going to laugh at me I’ll go back to planting my strawberries.” She held her head high and walked away from him. “And you aren’t getting any when they’re ripe.” 

“Honey, I am sorry.” He couldn’t suppress his grin though he tried. 

He followed her over to her plants. She seemed to be less annoyed with him as she explained the first row was planted yesterday and the second row today. She showed off the next row, where she would plant again in three days and the last row which would be planted in a week. She had a wooden marker at the beginning of the rows labeling which was which. 

“If this row produces more fruit and or bigger fruit, we can have the farmers start planting the days before Calanmai.” She pointed to the first row. 

He nodded, watching her dig her hands into the earth. His wife was so intelligent. Never in all his centuries did he even think to test for this. There was always just the obvious: calanmai helped the crops and the magic of Spring. He never questioned the mechanics of it. 

“And if it doesn’t?” 

She looked up at him. “Well then they can just rest. As they deserve.” 

He nodded again and looked out around the bustling grounds where everyone was finishing up cleaning. 

“What do you plan to do now?”

“Probably go help Lainy unpack one of the dozen bags Lu seems to think is needed for a week-long conference.” 

Tamlin laughed. “Don’t you know at least two of those bags are mine? I always forget something.” 

“That was before we married, Tam. I packed your bags just fine.” Flora got off the ground and dusted off her pants. “And do not start with me, I wanted to do it.”

As if he could forget her shooing him away to take over. Instead he crossed his arms and asked her seriously, “Are you certain you don’t want to go?”

Flora rolled her eyes. “And miss the peace and quiet I’lll have with Elain? I’m going to pass so many laws while you’re away, you won’t have any work to do when you get back.” She smiled at him. “I’ll be fine.”

“I am just worried it will go longer than planned. They always do.” 

A treaty agreement in times of peace required all factions and courts to meet once every five years. It felt redundant but with the Humans involved, it was necessary. They scheduled for a week but more often than not it would go on for two or three. Autumn Court was the host this year. Tamlin was half convinced Eris planned it right after Calanmai on purpose.  

“I’m sure Lord Eris will allow you to wash your clothes. You can always pull the ‘we’re practically family’ card. Or have Lucien do it. He’s the favorite.” She grinned. 

Tamlin only hummed at that. He then remembered, “I have a few items to catch up on before I leave. I’ll be up late in my office.” Meaning she was not to worry and wait up for him tonight.

“You’ll still have breakfast with me before you go?” She asked, eyeing him with a pout. 

“You know I will,” he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you at dinner, if not before.”

”I love you,” she said softly. 

“I love you,” he replied back, kissing her again before heading off again to help with the final bit of clean up. 

[yanderecrazysie]

Ache part 2 please?👀

My writing is finally starting to come back. 👀

Part 1: here

Title: Ache Part 2

Pairings: Tendou Satori x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, spoiler for timeskip, chubby reader, drugging

Summary: Tendou feels an ache for you that won’t go away.

ache

/verb/

feel an intense desire for:

The factory was even bigger than you could have ever imagined. Your entire house could fit in the front entrance. The outside was stone gray and square, leading up to large smokestacks, but the inside was much more appealing.

There was a red carpet with golden trim laid out upon the floor, and you had a feeling it was specifically there for your visit. The walls were lined with paintings of desserts. They looked so realistic that you couldn’t help but stare.

“Touch your finger to one of them and put it in your mouth,” Tendou advised you, “They’re tasteable paintings.”

“There’s no way,” you scoffed. Despite your disbelief, you swiped your finger across a particularly delicious-looking blueberry cheesecake painting. Then, you popped your finger into your mouth. The flavor exploded on your tongue, making you let out an “mmm” of delight.

Tendou watched you do so, eyes dark with want. But he could wait. He could be patient. 

“Now, you promised you would taste-test some chocolate for me!” Tendou reminded you with a lazy grin, his eyes lidded.

“Of course,” you said with a fist pump, “I’m excited for it!”

Tendou watched as your tummy and breasts jiggled a little with the motion and he realized that he too was hungry, just for something very different than you were.

The two of you walked through the factory together, so close together that your arms occasionally brushed against each other. He showed you all of the machines and explained what they did. Like a good girl, you nodded and showed as much enthusiasm as possible.

Then, finally, they got to the part of the tour where you would be testing out chocolates. Tendou opened up a box and pulled the first one out- a square of chocolate.

“This one has caramel inside,” Tendou explained. 

You tried to take it from him but he pulled it out of your reach, “No, no, say ‘ahh’!”

You giggled and opened your mouth, making an exaggerated ‘ahh’ sound. Tendou popped the chocolate inside and you began to chew, “Ooh, it’s so sweet and chewy!” 

It took you a while to finish the chocolate with how chewy it was. Tendou was ready with a new one as soon as you were done chewing.

“This one is a cherry cordial- do you like those? A lot of people don’t,” Tendou asked.

“I love every kind of chocolate,” you said with a grin. He popped it into your mouth and you bit down. The chocolate was hollow with cherry filling. You closed your eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the wonderful taste.

He pulled out a chocolate with bumps along the top, “This is a nut cluster. You’re not allergic to nuts, right?”

“Right!” you said, opening your mouth again to take in the next treat. This time, Tendou tossed it in from a distance, giggling when you had to move your head to snap it up into your mouth.

“Mmm… very crunchy! I like it!” you said.

“If I actually made a bad chocolate, would you even tell me?” Tendou asked with a smile.

You returned his smile, “Of course I would, but you’re amazing at making chocolates, so I’ll never need to!”

“Well,” Tendou said, reaching back into the box with a racing heart, “This is my secret invention- a chocolate that’s pretty bitter. I want you to answer honestly whether you like it or not.”

You nodded and let him drop the dark chocolate ball into your mouth. The dark chocolate outside was delicious, but the center was filled with a very bitter liquid. Your face twisted in disgust as you swallowed, “Yuck! Sorry, Tendou, but that one was not good.”

“I guess you’ll have to be the only one that has to suffer through it then,” Tendou said with a breathless chuckle, heart rate spiking as your blinks became slower and heavier.

“Woah,” you said, “I suddenly feel kind of… weird.”

“Like how?”

“Tendou, something’s seriously wrong with your chocolate,” you slurred, starting to sway on your feet. He helped you into a sitting position on the ground and watched as you started to lose consciousness, “What did you do… to me?”

He cradled you close as you fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked you up bridal style and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You may not have liked that chocolate, but I think that one’s my favorite.”

[collectivecloseness]

Giving Steve a blowjob because he’s such a good boyfriend

Fun fact, I was literally listening to the gimme more Slayyyter remix as this came in, and very true

Steve Harrington x reader

Steve sighs not out of exhaustion, but peace, as he finally gets home. Polo shirt spritzed with cologne as he closed up shop, even though you swore to him you loved the smell of his sweat too, in a weird way. The way you’d nuzzle his neck after a day of work may days made him think you didn’t mind the combination though. The silver ribbon of a stores glossed card bag, swinging in the crook of his fingers, as he unlocked the front door.

You sit up on the sofa when you hear the doorknob turning, running up to Steve as he smiles eased at you. “Hey baby.” He throws his keys into the bowl, on top of the drawers in his hallway. In the big house his parents didn’t really come back to anymore, and that he was much happier living with you in.

You don’t say anything as his car keys clatter. Instead your hands go to Steve’s hips. Pulling at the hem of his jeans, not quite enough to pull them down, but dangerously straining, as your thumbs slip under the material, rubbing against his warm hip bones.

Steve does a double take from the chest of drawers, looking at you with a mollified ‘woah’ expression. Until you started moving forwards. Steve’s eyes flutter as you kissed him. It was a wetter kiss than he expected, definitely more drawn out by you. He was surprised, but of course into it. It was only a small kiss, but his eyes slipped shut as he kissed you back, feeling how your wet lips slotted between his thick ones, creating a little bit of sound in the quiet home. One hand managed to get to the small of your back, even though the kiss only lasted a short amount of time, but it still made him think, since he was so surprised. Where was this going? Maybe you were just teasing him, playing around?

But no.

You got on your knees the second you’d given Steve his kiss hello. Slowly positioning yourself up on them, as you tilted your head up, gently bouncing your chin against his midriff.

“Woah. Baby.” Steve said stupefied, his hands going for your shoulders as you went for the button of his pants. He was already having to hold himself up. But then you looked up at him with your hooded eyes, and Steve felt his heart rate spiking.

“I missed you.” You said simply, popping the button from his pants as you watch your boyfriend try not to gasp, cute, and instead feel his hands gently squeezing you. “I missed you too sweetheart.” He relayed sweetly.

You start to unzip him. Hands soothing over his thighs after his long day, making you really want to massage them for him. You give them a hungry squeeze, finishing up with his zip when you hear your boyfriend above.

Steve gives you a bashful smile as he looks down at you. Legs tingling, but he holds up his bag with the gift paper wrapping poking out from the sides, dangling it from his hands since he hadn’t had the chance to put it down yet. “I uh, I got you something.” His voice was just a little higher, a breathy laugh leaving his lips as he shows you the logo of the bag.

A bright smile pushed its way onto your face, looking up at him with a new sparkle in your eyes. “Really?” You asked warmly. Steve always made you so happy.

Steve nodded, crooked smile mixing with a lick of his lips. Swallowing, he asked “Uh. Do you wanna look at it now, or?”

Steve went into this shop with you all the time. And you’d bought a top that was similar to this, from a different place last week. Steve was really good at learning what kinda clothes you like, getting into your mind on how you view them. He hoped you liked it.

“I wanna greet you first. I’ve been waiting for you all day.” You relay lustfully. Taking the bag gently out of his hands, at the same time Steve goes to try and place it around you somewhere, finally setting it down. You kiss the heel of his hand, before playing your fingers up the rest of it, bringing both of yours back to pulling his pants down his sweet ass just a little more.

“Oh-h, okay.” Steve stammers a bit, before gasping. Tilting his head back as your hand palms him through his underwear.

You loved the way his Adam’s apple bobs whenever he strains like this, it was infinitely hot. Your eyes stared voyeuristically at it, as you rubbed him.

With a sigh, Steve became more composed. Feeling you start to grope him down there, really got his blood rushing now. His mindset clearing to really wanting you now. His love. His hand sifts tenderly through your hair, reaching past your ear and stroking through it, as he rumbles to you “Okay baby.”

Steve felt his mind and body washing over with the moment, as he looked down at you. Sitting on your knees for him, and palming him, with a look in your eyes that he knew was the exact same as his. Eyes darker, and filled with carnality. Steve holds your cheek, hand set in place on your warm skin, and you look up at him again. You know he loves when you do that. You peer right up at Steve’s set, and lascivious face, as you lick a stripe over his underwear